


Faith(ful)

by Archer85



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Soft Epilogue, TBTWP, The Bang That was Promised, canon compliant up until the end of 8.04, married with children ending, oathsex, then canon divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer85/pseuds/Archer85
Summary: Opens with Jaime and Brienne having sex for the first time. Highly canon faithful up until the scene where Jaime leaves Brienne at the end of 8.04. Will diverge from there. Happy ending to come. First few chapters will explore their relationship at Winterfell. Lots of banging and soft moments. Will resolve other major plot lines in the series, but remain focused on Jaime x Brienne.





	1. A New Dialect

Brienne felt her stomach twist as she replayed the scene in the dining hall over in her head. She liked to tell herself, or perhaps had learned to tell herself, that she was above it. Above sex, above social approval, above men’s approval, above love. 

But when Tyrion had said the v-word, all her well-worn insecurities, which should have withered in the face of the total annihilation they had narrowly beaten back not a day ago, returned with a force that surprised even her.

Perhaps it was because she had finally started to feel like she fit in somewhere, and that maybe her gender – and all the ways she failed at it – didn’t matter to these men anymore. That they could see her as worthy despite...everything. But apparently it would always matter, would always get in the way, eventually.

The thought made her grateful for the two full goblets of wine she had imbibed during their little game. Along with making her feel warm and light-headed, it had also softened the sting a bit. As she stared into the fire, it occurred to her that perhaps making alcohol more of a habit would not be the worst thing for her state of mind.

A soft, but persistent knocking at the door had her immediately reconsidering. During her stay at Winterfell, she’d had more than a few drunken squires knocking on her door in the night trying to find their way back to their room...or someone else’s. It was as predictable as it was irritating.

 Yet what she found waiting for her on the other side of the door was anything but predictable. Jaime, looking haggard and determined and something else she could not quite put a name to. 

 “You didn’t drink.”

 He did not wait for her to respond before letting himself into her room. She made way for him instinctively.

 “I didn’t drink?"

 “In the game.”

 “I drank.”

 As she said this, she watched him fumble to put down two goblets and a wine pitcher on her table. Apparently, they were not done drinking.

 “In the game! This is Dornish,” he said, as if he imagined she gave even the tiniest shit where the wine came from.

 Brienne could not conjure a single thing she cared less about at this exact moment. Her brain was scrambling to understand the situation before her. The obvious answer seemed both undeniable and impossible.

 “This is not the game. This is only drinking.” 

He seemed the slightest bit annoyed as he held out one of the newly flush goblets to her and said, “Suit yourself.”

The timbre of his voice lowered to a pitch that sent shivers down her body and made an ache begin to pool in her abdomen. Against all of the odds, and all of her experience up until this moment, it was beginning to seem as if this was exactly what it looked like.

All she could do in response to that thought was take another long sip.

She refrained from saying anything else for fear she might inadvertently break whatever spell had brought him to her bedchambers with that look in his eyes. Indeed, she was not entirely certain this wasn’t some wine-induced dream destined to torture her when she awoke.

Her suspicions only magnified when he began disrobing, allegedly in response to how warm her room was. Which, to be fair, it was.

She watched him struggle to remove his jacket and let him fumble unaided, offering only what she felt was a tremendously lame reply.

“It’s the first thing I learned when I came to the North. Keep the fire going. Every time you leave the room, put more wood on.”

“That’s very diligent, very responsible,” he said in that mocking tone that had been a cornerstone of their relationship up until recently.

She felt compelled to respond in kind.

“Piss off!”

He seemed unperturbed by her tell-off as he casually meandered back towards her and said, “You know the first thing I learned in the North? I hate the fucking North.”

Brienne could not help but be amused at this declaration. It was so classic him – resentment over his own noble choices.    

“It grows on you.”

As she said this, she heard her affection for him leak out in her tone. 

He gave her a quick up-and-down before he declared, “I don’t want things growing on me.”

It was clear they were not talking about the North anymore, if they ever had been.

Jaime sloppily poured himself another generous serving of wine as he inquired, “What about Tormund Giantsbane? Has he _grown_ on you?”

A sarcastic look was all she could muster before he added, “He was quite sad when you left.”

“You sound quite jealous.”

Brienne heard herself say it, but it was as if she was outside her body, watching someone else do it in her stead. It felt both organic and deeply strange. How had she become a person who says things like that to a person like Jaime Lannister?  Perhaps even more to the point, how had she become a person anyone was jealous over to begin with? It was patently absurd.

As was the next thing that came out of Jaime’s mouth. 

“I do, don’t I?”

The man seemed genuinely surprised and at that, Brienne felt a kind of fear she had never experienced before in her life. A fear that made her heart flutter, her stomach turn over, her groin throb and ache: somebody liked her _that way_ – and he was here to do something about it.

What was more, he was not just any somebody. He was not some sad, middle-aged toad of a man who thought she was the best he could get. He was not a man with a penchant for other men who was using her to try and cover it up. He was not some social climber who only desired the money and lands endowed to her. He was not some wildling with absolutely no social graces and no sense of proper boundaries. He was Jaime Lannister. 

He was beautiful, mannered, monied, landed, with a lineage as distinguished as her own. Not that she cared much about that _for its own sake_. But she cared that he appeared to have no ulterior motive. There was nothing she could imagine he would hope to win from this, other than pleasure. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity in silence, save for the fire crackling behind them.  Brienne’s fear of doing or saying the wrong thing magnified. The magic of this moment felt so rare and delicate, and the possibility that she could shatter it was paralyzing.

Jaime just seemed like he was trying not to be too crass, or direct. Which was precious in its way. As was his face when he repeated his earlier observation about the climate.

“It’s bloody hot in here.”

He immediately began fumbling with the laces on his shirt. But having only one functioning hand, he struggled quite a bit. Brienne watched, feeling a mixture of confusion, guilt, and mounting frustration. Finally, she had to intervene.

 “Oh, move aside!” she exclaimed, taking over the task as if she was annoyed by the obligation.

 In reality, she could feel her fingers trembling ever so slightly in anticipation, but her dexterity was still superior to his.

 After a moment, he began trying to loosen her laces in return, and that sense that she was outside her body overtook her once more.

 “What are you doing?” she asked him, even though she knew bloody well exactly what he was doing.

 The question made her feel like a silly, naïve child, a perception she had been desperate to waylay here, apparently to no avail.  Yet she was soothed by his equally childish answer.

 “Taking your shirt off.”

Brienne honestly could not tell whether he actually thought her question had been literal, or if he was just answering in kind to be snarky. Either way, with that declaration, they had abandoned any illusion that this was not about sex, and in a way, she was relieved. There was no more risk of humiliating herself on a false assumption.  

Because it wasn’t false. He wanted her, truly wanted her. It was a quietly miraculous thing.

She gently guided his hand away, and for a moment it looked as if he sincerely feared rejection. Brienne tucked that moment of fear on his face into the back of her mind. She knew she might need it one day to lift her spirits.

However, she did not leave him in suspense for long. She soon brought her hands back up to her collar and diligently began pulling at the stacked laces holding her blouse together. Slowly, she became undone for him.

He just watched, seeming awestruck. He was looking at her the way she felt about him. It was transcendent.

 Brienne then pulled his shirt up over his head and he followed her lead. He may have been the more sexually experienced of the two, but her two functioning hands seemed to outweigh that. She then removed her own shirt completely.

 They were both covered in bruises and looking a little worse for wear. But she could not say that lessened his attractiveness to her at all. And from the way he was looking at her, she suspected the feeling was mutual. It soothed her. And excited her.

“I’ve never slept with a knight before,” he said in an undertone just above a whisper.

“I’ve never slept with anyone before.”

“Well, then you have to drink. Those are the rules.”

“I told you –” Her frustration with his talk of the game was cut short by him grabbing her head with his one good hand and kissing her fiercely.

Brienne was caught off guard for a moment – a rarity for her in any circumstance – but she quickly recovered and gave as good as she was given.

He tasted of wine, and when his tongue rubbed aggressively against hers it made the ache in her abdomen pulse harder, harder. She had an errant thought that this should be gross; yet all it did was make her want more of it. And of him. 

Soon enough she felt his one good hand grasping her right breast and she momentarily broke their kiss to let out a gasp. For a split second he looked afraid he had hurt her, but when she met his eyes and broke into a wide smile, he smiled back and continued.

Their mouths rejoined, this time with more finesse. They had long ago learned to read each other’s battle body language. Now they were learning a new dialect. Brienne trailed her hands down Jamie’s sides and let them linger for a brief moment on his hips before moving her right hand in between their bodies towards his crotch. 

She felt just a bit of hesitation, but she knew bravery meant forging on in the face of fear. And compared to other things she had faced down throughout her life, this was a small hurdle. Although, not actually that small, she realized as she traced the outline of his erection in his trousers. Not small at all, in fact.

The pulsating wetness between her thighs somehow got even stronger at taking in both the size of him and his obvious desire for her. Brienne was overwhelmed with the urge to feel him inside her. However, she settled momentarily for putting her hand under his waistband and grabbing hold of his engorged cock.

It was his turn to break off their kiss and gasp. She could tell from the look on his face that this had been a good choice. 

“Holy fuck,” he exclaimed, seeming taken aback by her ministrations.  

 Brienne watched his face as she moved her hand in different ways to find just the right grip and pace. She quickly found it and watched a strong flush rise in Jaime’s already rosy complexion as she continued stroking him.

He let it go on for a moment, but very soon, his hand grabbed her wrist and he looked her right in the eye to say, “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come in these trousers, and if it’s all the same, I’d rather come in you.”   

Brienne gave him a short, open-mouthed kiss before releasing him from her grip and replying, in a low, sultry voice, “I’d rather that, too.”

His eyes widened, almost as if he was slightly afraid of what he had awakened within her. But mostly he just looked grateful, as if he was the lucky one here. Part of Brienne was sure this had to be a dream.

The main thing that suggested it was not were the tiresome clothes they still had to find their way out of with only three good hands between them; both of them resented it tremendously. Brienne decided to make quick work of her own boots, stockings, and trousers before helping Jaime. By the time she was free of all her clothing, he had managed to get his boots off on his own and was sitting on the bed to remove his stockings. She let him finish that task as she sat down next to him, completely naked against the bed covers.   

The glorious, soft sensations of the fur against her bare skin added to her arousal as she waited impatiently for him to be free of everything but his trousers. Those she was going to take off herself.

The moment he started grasping at the laces, Brienne flicked his hand away and made it clear she intended to do the honors. He conceded and laid back on his elbows to watch her pick at the small line of ties that was now the only physical barrier between them. Brienne was as quick as possible under the circumstances, but in their jointly aroused state, every second felt like an hour. When she finally got the laces loose enough to release him, they both pulled the fabric down from his hips with a clawing desperation that would have been embarrassing had it not been shared.  

For the first time in her life, Brienne took in the sight of a fully aroused man up close. She had long understood the mechanics of human sexual congress, and she had seen enough naked men in other circumstances to infer what an erection looked like, in theory. In reality, up close, it made her brain feel like it was melting.She just...wanted it. Wanted to stroke it with her hands, lave it with her tongue, ride it until it made her come. It was a wholly new kind of hunger, one that made her feel very alive.

“Hey.”

That one small word took her out of her reverie.

She made eye contact with her companion once again, as he inquired, “Are you sure you still want to do this?”

Apparently, her fascination with his dick had been mistaken for apprehension. She smiled at the misunderstanding and leaned in to kiss him before she replied, in an emphatic sigh, “Gods yes.”

He smiled that smile at her again, like he could not believe his luck, and then moved his hand between her legs to touch her.

At this point they were both lying on their sides, face to face across the bed. While Brienne might have felt a little less self-conscious under the covers, she knew it was too hot in her room to even attempt it. Much as Jaime’s complaints about the heat might have been a tactic, he had not been wrong. She did keep her room very warm. 

They continued to lay on top of the silky fur kissing deeply while Jamie pushed through the bright blonde patch of pubic hair to the slickness underneath. When he reached it, he actually felt a bit of shock over how swollen and wet she was. While he had long known she was not truly as cold as she seemed, he was still frequently put off by her frigid exterior and posturing. She kept the lusty side of herself extremely well hidden, but it was not tempered or withered at all. If anything, it was starved for attention. 

Jaime was thrilled to obliged. So thrilled, in fact, that his cock, which had already been standing at attention for quite some time, visibly twitched with anticipation when his middle finger entered her for the first time. For a split second, he worried he might come prematurely, like some inexperienced adolescent boy, touching a girl for the first time.

Jaime was loath to admit how much this felt like his first time, too. Although it obviously was not, his experience was limited to one other person, a person with whom he’d had an extremely strange and complicated relationship literally his entire life. If he was being honest with himself, this was his first ‘normal’ sexual encounter. And Brienne was about as different from Cersei as it was possible to be. While Jaime did not have first-hand experience of different women’s unique sexual tastes, he knew women were not sexually interchangeable. At least, assuming you cared about their pleasure.

And Jaime cared, almost more than he would have liked to believe.  

He could tell Brienne liked kissing a lot. More than Cersei did. He was also getting the sense that Brienne was less outcome-oriented when it came to sex. She seemed to enjoy the kissing and fondling almost for their own sake. Cersei had often treated it as a perfunctory prelude to the ‘real thing.’

Although if Jaime was being honest, he was feeling more and more outcome-oriented by the second. Slowly he removed his hand from between Brienne’s legs only to have her emphatically whimper her displeasure. It was an almost animalistic sound, and Jamie was once again visited by the fear that he would come prematurely on her stomach before he ever got inside her.

However, before that happened, he needed to rid himself of one final burden.

“Could you...?” he asked, pushing his right hand towards her.

Brienne acquiesced immediately, pulling at the straps that kept his metal hand attached to the rest of his arm. Jaime glimpsed her fingers shaking ever so slightly as she detached the prosthetic, and at this sight, he felt something he could not properly put into words for all the gold in the seven kingdoms.

With the straps loosened, Brienne gingerly removed the hand and Jaime felt an instant, familiar flood of relief. Although the scar tissue there was thick, it still chaffed quite a bit, and he was always relieved to be rid of it at the end of the day. Brienne ran her fingers over his wound with gentle reverence, looking at him with those eyes that felt to him like their own form of gravity, and suddenly, Jaime heard his feelings for her ring out inside his head, clear as a bell – _I love you_.

And he _almost_ said it. Almost.

Instead, he repositioned the two of them so she was lying beneath him, and he was kneeling between her legs. His intention was crystal clear, and she looked at him expectantly, inviting him to proceed.

Jaime leaned down and gave her a short, open-mouthed kiss before saying, “This could hurt a bit. Let me know if you want me to stop.”

Brienne looked annoyed at his concern.

“Will you please get on with it, and stop treating me like I’m a delicate flower? I’m a knight.”

They were back to being snarky. This, at least, was familiar terrain.  

“I know you’re a knight, I was there when it happened.”

“Either get inside me, or get off me.”

Her tone was playful, but there was just enough bite to it that he knew she meant business. He went gradually at first, feeling a tiny bit of resistance. However, she was so incredibly wet and warm that his hesitation was short-lived.

The moment he fully entered her, she gasped, and he could see a tiny grimace of pain that appeared very short-lived. He stayed still for a moment while he let her adjust.

Then he asked, “You okay?”

She nodded and kissed him tenderly. Then, with that wry humor that she only brought out in her best moments, she said, “And if you don’t get on with it, I’m going to stab you with that sword you gave me.”

Jaime laughed and then did the thing he’d been dying to do since he had arrived at her room tonight. No, since they’d been laughing in the great hall earlier. No, since he had knighted her yesterday. No since she had grabbed him by the arm at that summit and said, “fuck loyalty.” No, since...

He didn’t know exactly when his grudging respect for her had morphed into admiration had morphed into sincere affection had morphed into love and lust. But somewhere along the line this tall, blue-eyed warrior with the most unflattering hair-cut imaginable managed to make him feel like a half-crazed animal in heat.

And finally, finally, he gave into it. His thrusts were fast and hard. Per her request, he did not hold back. She may have had a soft, sentimental side, but physically she was not invested in being treated as delicate.

Soon enough she began to match him thrust for thrust, and Jamie was once again in awe of just how physically strong she was. Cersei could be feisty enough in bed, but she did not have anything close to Brienne’s raw power.

Which in some ways was a problem, if only because her long, muscular legs aggressively enveloping his hips pushed Jaime closer to the edge than he wanted to be. He was determined to make her come first, and she was not making it easy for him to accomplish that with her flushed skin, swollen, pink lips, grasping hands, and wonderful, breathless exclamations.

She was so unpracticed, so real, and everything about it made Jaime feel like he was coming undone. With what little mental power he had left, he forced himself to lean on his right arm and push his left hand into the space where their bodies were joined. Using his middle finger, he found the small nub of flesh that he knew would bring her over the edge.

The second he ran his finger over it he could see _that look_ come over her face. She was very close. Jaime lowered his head and bit softly at the skin just under her ear as he continued to stroke. Her hips bucked wildly in response to this and he had to exert a not inconsequential amount of effort to keep her from tossing him completely off her.

Maybe four or five more thrusts and her hands were erratically grasping at him while she let out something like a moan and convulsed around him. Although she was already flushed all over, Jaime could see a new wave of red sweep up her chest, as her body relaxed into the downhill slide of her climax.

A few more thrusts and Jaime simply surrendered himself fully to the feeling of being inside her. His expulsion was enormous. He could feel it was way stronger and larger than his typical release. Even after all the fluid had left him, he still had several aftershock pulses before his body finally quieted.

When it did, he rested his head sideways on her chest and he could hear her heart beat. It was still fast, but audibly slowing down. He let all the tension in his body drain away and was just still with her like that for a soft and brief eternity.


	2. The Hard & the Soft Bits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more round of sex before bed. :)

Eventually, the sound of the crackling fire came back into their awareness. Her room had been warm enough before the sex, but after, they were both a sweaty mess.

The moment he had the strength, Jaime lifted his head and looked into Brienne’s eyes. She smiled at him that smile made of sunshine, and Jamie could not help but think back to the events of the previous night and how easily this could have never come to pass. The thought turned his stomach.

 He had done his part to keep the world spinning. Keeping her in his world now felt like the only thing that mattered.  

 Nevertheless, they both needed a chance to cool off a bit, and with that thought, Jamie rolled off Brienne and onto his side. She remained on her back but turned her head to look at him.

 “Was that alright for your first time?” he asked, his light-hearted tone only half masking the earnest question beneath.  

 She smiled at him and replied, “Yes, I suppose it will do.”

 He let out a chuckle and she joined in on the merriment.

 Then her face became sober.

 “But honestly, thank you.”

 Jamie shook his head and asked, sincerely, “For what?”

“Everything.”

 If Jamie had been standing, the sincerity of that one word would have brought him to his knees. He could hear the pain wrapped up in her gratitude, the lingering fear that she would never get a man’s full respect or affection, let alone his admiration or desire or love.  

And at that moment Jaime truly understood. There were a lot of shallow differences between her and Cersei but the big one was this – Cersei had been denied the things she wanted in life, and it had made her irrationally, obsessively, homicidally greedy and cruel. Brienne had been denied the things she wanted in life, and instead of becoming greedy or cruel or homicidal, it had made her stoic and ascetic. It had left her believing she should expect nothing and want nothing. That she deserved nothing.

Jaime hated the irony of the world. He hated that she was the one person in all of Westeros who was truly, purely, good and deserving, and she was stuck with the likes of him as the only person who could truly see it.

Except _maybe_ Sansa. But still.

“Believe me, I still owe you more than you could ever owe me.”

A dark look flitted across her face and Jaime felt the bottom of his stomach drop.

“I hope you didn’t do this because you felt you owed me something.”

Jamie knew instantly words would never suffice. Instead, he grabbed her head, kissed her deeply, and let himself feel the anticipation growing. His body responded enthusiastically.

He grabbed her hand and put it over his half-hard, growing erection. Looking her in the eye, he said, “Cocks don’t get hard because they feel obligated.”

He let all the desire he felt seep out of his voice, and she smiled at him a bit like a cat stalking prey. That was the thing that made Jamie completely hard. 

Then, quick as a flash, she stood up and walked toward the table where the goblets and wine still resided. She poured herself a drink and just watched him as she sipped. Despite the fact that she was just as naked as he was, it made Jamie feel more than a little exposed at first.

However, after a moment, he took in the sight of her standing there, completely naked in the firelight with her hair tousled beautifully.

The one thing about her he genuinely did not like was the way she normally wore her hair. The ugliness almost seemed deliberate. But their first fuck had heightened the natural curliness that was there and left a part on one side, causing what length was there to spill over and frame her face. It was enchanting.

Everything about her at that moment was. She normally wore so much armor, literal and otherwise. And it had protected her throughout her life, to be sure, but it had also weighed her down. Despite her height, visible musculature and mosaic of bruises from the previous night’s battle, he could almost describe the image before him at the moment as girlish. Her creamy skin, her pink, perky nipples, her rosy cheeks and lips, that glint in her eye as she looked at him over the top of her goblet.

If Jamie had been a poet, he was sure the sight of her like this would have inspired a sonnet on the spot. As it was, his erection had gone from enthusiastic to painful, and he was determined to see it put to good use.

“Any chance I can persuade you to come back to bed for another round?”

She downed the last of the wine in her goblet, then walked back over to him. She crawled directly on top of him, straddling his hips with that cat-like look back on her face. She gave him one long, languishing kiss, and then grabbed his cock and guided it into her opening.

Jamie let out an involuntary exclamation and immediately began thrusting upwards as he grabbed onto her hips. He relished that he didn’t need to deliberately tone down his strength to protect her.

They found a good pace, and the sounds of their soft moans and grunts filled the air. Brienne was so enthusiastic, Jamie was sure he would leave her bed tomorrow with a few more bruises than he’d come to it with. But that bothered him not a whit.

He let her have her way with him, completely content to follow her lead. She was good at letting her instincts guide her, trying different angles, different speeds to see what worked for her. However, she really responded well when Jamie half sat up and started sucking on the nipple of her left breast. It made her audibly gasp.

And it really made him appreciate her height. Most women would be too small to pull off such a position, yet with her, he could do it with ease. He discovered, to the delight of both of them, that her nipples were very sensitive. Soon he could feel her deliberate, rhythmic thrusts becoming more erratic, and he knew she was close.

He let go of her nipple to give her another long kiss, and then he looked her in the eye and said, without an ounce of fabrication, “You are so beautiful.”

He felt the spasms around his cock as her hands began to scratch along his shoulder blade and through his hair. Her ungentle undoing made his hips buck and caused him to spill his seed inside her for the second time that night.

This second release was not as dramatic as the first – for him, anyway. It was still intense, but more familiar and warm; less like his body was releasing years of pent-up feelings all at once. 

When Brienne slowed to a stop, she remained upright on her knees and gave him another long, deep kiss before disengaging their bodies. She fell on her back once again and they shared a look, followed by a quiet laugh.

After they had both caught their breath and cooled down a bit, Brienne rolled towards him on her side, and started casually stroking his chest. She seemed enthralled by his body, and Jamie was fascinated by her fascination.

“It feels nice, being able to touch you like this. I never thought I’d...”

She trailed off, but Jamie knew what she had left unsaid. Or he had a strong inkling, at least.

“In the spirit of honesty, maybe I should tell you that I’ve actually wanted to do this for a good long while now.”

Brienne’s eyebrows knitted together, and a highly skeptical look came over her face.

“That’s not true.”

“It is. For a long time, I told myself it was pure curiosity. What would it feel like to sleep with a woman who could quite possibly kill me? I told myself I wasn’t attracted to you, that it was just the danger I was drawn to. But it wasn’t. It was all of you. The hard and the soft bits.”

“What changed?”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You mean besides us almost getting annihilated by those walking dead things?”

He let the question hang there but her silence invited him to continue.

“Honestly, it was Tormund. He makes me bristle anyway, crass as he is. But the idea that he might touch you like this, it was unbearable to me.”

“For what it’s worth, that idea was pretty unbearable to me too.”

They shared a knowing smile and simply looked each other in the eyes for long moment. Jamie marveled that he could have ever thought her ugly or plain. She was radiant, stunning, perfect. 

He felt the pull of sleep beginning to drag him under as he realized the room was starting to dim. Her fire was waning. Forcing himself to do the gentlemanly thing, he got up and added a few more logs to it before returning to the bed.

While he did this, Brienne had moved herself under the covers. She seemed unperturbed by her own nakedness, and Jamie found this pleasing. He was a bit worried she might start to resurrect some of her walls after the glow of their sex faded. But she seemed to have settled into their new status quite comfortably.

For a moment he just looked at her – the bare shoulders, her breasts and body hidden beneath the fur covers, hair tousled, lips plump and pink. She gazed at him expectantly and patted the bed, indicating he should join her. That image made Jaime feel like time stood still for him for one glorious moment, as if the whole universe was holding its breath to let him savor this.

He did not know the future. Likely it would be filled with a great many more battles and sorrows and agonies and disappointments.  But to have gotten this, even for a moment, felt like such a gift. Jaime let himself be present in it and he knew, whether he died tomorrow or lived another 50 years, this image would stay with him until his dying breath.  

Soon enough, however, the chill got the better of him and he returned to the bed. He crawled over her to get to the right side of the bed. That was his preferred side, and it put her closer to the fire. He made his way under the covers and lay on his side facing her.

She was on her back looking at him when her right hand reached out and grasped the side of his face, stroking it. He indulged it for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed her.

“Goodnight,” he whispered against her lips.

“Goodnight,” she responded.

And almost immediately she fell asleep. Jaime was tired and knew he would soon be under as well. But he still felt ill-at-ease. Cersei remained alive, and was still carrying his child, as far as he knew. While he understood what a toxic force she had been in his life, and while he knew he was done with her _that way_ , he still cared about what happened to her. He couldn’t help it.

The child in particular weighed on his mind. He couldn’t wish death on it, or on Cersei. Likely she would go down fighting, regardless, but what if she decided to surrender and lived? What if the child managed to make it into the world. What would he owe it? What would he feel he owed it?

Those questions became all the more vexing as he thought about a future that included Brienne. What if she got pregnant?

It was a thought Jaime had been trying to keep at bay. But ironically, with Brienne asleep, the idea gained more power over him. He was worried about how much he liked it. Brienne was a woman who made her own choices and would not bow down to convention for the sake of it. But a pregnancy would change things, make their bond more permanent, if not by law, then by blood.

Jaime experienced significant guilt for that line of thought. He had been avoiding it all night for precisely that reason. Brienne was the single most honorable person he had ever known, and he hated to think of what they were doing as any form of manipulation.

Granted, it was not Jaime’s _goal_ to get her pregnant. But he could not deny the thrill that surged through him at the thought that it might happen anyway, nor could he deny the guilt that he felt over that thrill.

But, he supposed, that was an issue that would hold until the morrow, at the very least. And with that, Jaime let out a long sigh, and surrendered himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, my updates won't always be this quick (sadly). I had a couple of chapters written before I posted. But once I get through those, it'll like be more like a week between updates, rather than a day.


	3. For the Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne have breakfast and a bit more sex before they start the day.

Jaime awoke before Brienne and for a long moment he simply took in her face as she slept. She seemed to have a glow that was part post-coital, part post-Battle with Death. The bruise around her eye already looked like it was healing.  Her cheeks still had a touch of blush to them, despite the fact that her room had cooled considerably since last night.

The fire had gone out at some point while they slept. And although Jaime could tell the true harshness of the winter was behind them, the North was still cold. It was still the North, after all.

Two conflicting ideas began to wage war in his head. One was to wake Brienne up and see if she wanted a morning go-around. The other was to see if he could procure breakfast for both of them in her chambers.

While he had no qualms about admitting their relationship to anyone in the castle (or outside it), he was anxious to spend as much time with her one-on-one as he could get. One big battle was behind them, but another was still to come, and that one could easily rip them apart in any number of ways. He wanted to make the absolute most of this while it was still securely in his grasp.

He settled on breakfast. Rising as quietly as he could manage, Jaime retrieved his shirt and trousers from her floor and put them on. He also located her chamber pot and relieved himself quickly before clumsily tying up his pant laces. While it was the very last reason he wanted to be involved with Brienne, it did occur to him that having a regular bed companion would help him with the more mundane aspects of his life that he hated dealing with one-handed, such as dressing.

This thought brought back the scene from last night when he struggled to remove his shirt and Brienne finally took over for him. It made him smile to himself as he moved toward the door and took pains to open it silently. He wanted to avoid waking her if at all possible, to preserve the surprise.

However, it turned out he was the one in for a surprise. He took one step into the hallway before he noticed a large tray laying on the floor beside the door. It had an elaborate breakfast already laid out, accompanied by a note addressed to himself and Brienne; Jaime recognized it as Tyrion’s handwriting.

This type of gesture did distinctly smell of him, Jaime thought. His brother was a romantic underneath his heavy layer of cynicism and (former) womanizing. Jamie strategized how he might pick up the tray without dumping its contents everywhere. Eventually he realized he couldn’t and he settled for pulling it inside while it stayed on the ground.

He then made a point to close the door loudly to rouse Brienne. It worked. He heard her make a small moan and then bring her hands up to her eyes and rub them.

“Ow!” she exclaimed softly.

She had forgotten about the bruise.

Jamie walked over to her and leaned over the bed to kiss her. Her breath was stale, but he did not really mind.

“Morning.”

“Morning. How long have you been up?”

“Only a minute. I was going to go get us breakfast, but my brother has apparently handled it.”

Jamie indicated the tray on the floor and Brienne immediately started making her way out of the bed. However, when the covers fell off her breasts in the chilly morning air, she seemed to think better of it.

“In the wardrobe over there, I have a long black dressing gown. Could you bring it to me?”

Jaime did as she asked and while she arose and clothed herself, he walked back over to the tray to retrieve the note. He wanted a chance to read it first, incase Tyrion had said anything...untoward. Jamie knew his brother was a good man, and that he respected Brienne. But he also had an impish nature and was not above being excessively crude at times.

However, his fears were unfounded. He opened the note to find this simple missive:

" _For the lovers._

_P.S. council meeting today when the bell tolls 3.”_

“What does it say?”

Jamie handed it to her. Brienne glanced at it and smiled.

“Have I mentioned how much I like your brother?” she asked as she handed the note back and bent over to pick up the tray.

Jaime could tell it was heavy. It was huge and piled high with bread, butter, jellies, fruits, cured meats, hot tea, and a fresh pitcher of water.

“Me too. Today a little more than most.”

Jaime just watched as Brienne made them up plates and served them each a large mug of tea. There was something so sweetly domestic about it that for a moment, Jamie thought his heart might cave in. To imagine he could keep having mornings like this – it seemed too good to be true.

Feeling a bit useless, Jaime took the liberty of rebuilding the lost fire, a task easier done one-handed. Brienne waited from him to finish before starting to eat, and it was the smallest thing, but the thought crossed his mind that it was the type of pleasantry Cersei would never have afforded him.

At first, they ate in silence, both too ravenous to temper their eating with chit-chat. However, once the hunger had been satiated somewhat, they fell back into it.

“What do you suppose this council meeting is about?” Jaime asked. He had an inkling, but Brienne had been in the North longer than him, and she would be in a better position to speculate. 

“Most likely a strategy meeting for the attack on King’s Landing.”

“Yes. That’s what I assumed. I hope the plan is not to ride out immediately. It would be nice to give everyone a bit of time to rest up first.”

“Are you planning to go with them to King’s Landing?”

She asked it as lightly as she could, but he could hear the tenor of worry underneath.

“I had not given it a lot of thought, to be honest. I expected to perish in the battle for Winterfell. I had not made many plans beyond it.”

“I understand if the Queen commands it, you must join the expedition. But if they don’t feel they need you, I think you should stay here in the North. I –”

Her voice faltered a bit and she looked hard at her plate for a moment before continuing.

“I would like for you to stay, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Jaime heard himself reply.

He could tell the progression of their relationship over the last few days had made him more or less incapable of denying her anything it was within his power to give. He did not know if that boded well or ill for their future.

“Well, assuming I remain welcome at Winterfell.”

“I will talk to Sansa. I am sure she will allow you to stay.”

They returned to silent eating for another few bites and then Jaime asked the question that had been flitting around the back of his brain basically since the army of the dead had fallen.

“Assuming the attack on King’s Landing is successful, and Daenerys takes her rightful place on the throne, what then? Are you planning to stay at Winterfell forevermore?”

“I can’t say I know. I definitely need to stay until all the fighting is done, and there is stable peace in Westeros once more. But after that, I suppose I’ll most likely return to Tarth. I do miss it, and my father.”

Jaime had suspected this would be her answer and he toyed with how to ask the question that was really on his mind without seeming too forward. He settled for a slightly less delicate topic.

“Tell me about Tarth.”

Brienne smiled and launched into describing the lands, the people, her family’s castle and homestead, what her life had been like growing up there. Jaime was enraptured. It was interesting enough on its own, but the brightness that overtook her as she spoke about it was almost enough to heat the room without the fire. The longer he spent with Brienne like this, the more he realized just how much that amour of hers had been keeping under wraps.

At a natural pause, Jaime interjected, “I should like very much to see it someday.”

“I should like very much to show it to you.”

“Well, I won’t make you promise anything. By the time all this unrest dies down, you may well be bored of me.”

A strange look crossed her face. It was a mixture of amusement, bafflement, and something else he would have called love if he were willing to be more presumptuous.

“I...suppose so.”

He could tell that was not the first answer she had intended to give. But he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear her first answer, or respond in kind. At least not yet.

In fact, Jaime found comfort in her hesitation. It was not that what she had declined to say felt false, just a bit premature. While declarations of love had been swirling around his head last night amid all the wine and lust and bone-deep exhaustion, in the sober, well-slept light of day, he was inclined to pull on the reigns a bit. Their entire relationship had been built on a set of very extraordinary circumstances. And it was hard to know at this point how much of what they were feeling were the extraordinary emotions that come along with such circumstances.

Assuming a fairly good outcome in the final battle yet to come, they could not be sure the strength of their bond would endure when life returned to its normal content and cadences. Perhaps they _would_ tire of each other.

Jaime knew how seriously Brienne took oaths; he was not exactly casual about them himself. He did not want to bind her to him through the honor of an ill-considered oath if it was not what would make her happy in the long-term. The thought that he might become a burdensome promise to her (yet again) invoked more horror in him than all the dead men he’d slayed two nights prior.

“Or maybe you’ll be bored of me.”

He could tell she was trying to be light, but her insecurity leaked out in her tone despite her attempt to suppress it. Jaime was still determined to avoid weighty declarations of love at this point. But he needed to do something to get that look off her face.

“Oh, no doubt. I’ll _definitely_ be bored with you by then. Women like you – so tiresomely common.”

His exaggerated sarcasm worked. After a split second, she smiled and threw a folded napkin at him.

“Your beard has jam in it.”

Jaime made a cursory attempt to clean himself, but deliberately avoided being thorough. He had an idea.

“You missed a spot,” she said, pointing to the remnants of breakfast still on his face as she took a long swig of her tea.

“Care to help me out?”

Brienne instantly heard the distinct turn of his tone as she set her mug back down on the table. He said it in exactly same timbre he had used the night before to utter the words “I don’t want things growing on me.” In response, she felt the same fluttering in her stomach and ache in her groin begin to pulse.  

He had made it perfectly clear that always was not something he wanted to talk of this morning. But he still seemed to want this here and now.

Brienne felt a small sense of awe over just how much of that impulse remained in her, as well. Being unfamiliar with the experience until recently, she had assumed that their initial consummation might have dulled her appetite for him – like a food craving that, once fulfilled, remains satisfied for a while. But in many ways, her desire for him felt stronger than before.

Sure, their long-unspoken desire had _finally_ come to fruition _._ But her newly garnered first-hand knowledge of what sex truly was, of what it could be, had only made her more ravenous. And here he was, inviting her to another round.

She smiled at him, leaned in slightly, and grabbed his head with both hands. For a moment she simply considered him and ran her fingers through his hair. Then she scooted to the edge of her chair and put her mouth up to the patch of blackberry preserves that clung to the side of his mouth.

She took one long, lingering lick and immediately heard him suck in a breath, and then grab onto her leg to steady himself. Brienne tasted tangy sweetness mixed with the slight salt of his skin and the texture of his beard. To her, it was like bread to a starving man, and she felt the rising ache in her abdomen flare dramatically.

She pulled away a mere inch to realign their faces, and in his she saw that same animal hunger for her that she had seen in him last night.  It was more intoxicating than all the wine in Dorne.

They kissed feverishly, tasting the remnants of their breakfast on each other, and then rose in unison to fully embrace. The moment they were standing, Jaime pulled at the belt tying Brienne’s dressing gown in place. When it fell open, he put his left hand up to cup her breast.

Brienne let go of Jaime for a brief moment to let the gown fall off her shoulders and onto the floor.  Then she grabbed his head again and pulled him with her towards the bed. As soon as she felt the edge of the mattress up against the back of her thighs, she sat, relishing the now familiar sensation of the fur on her bare skin.

Leaving her lower legs dangling off the edge of the bed, Brienne reclined and brought Jaime’s head down with her, keeping their kiss unbroken. Balanced on his elbows, he was now bent over her across the bed. However, he remained fully clothed and standing between her legs.

Soon, Jaime moved his mouth down to her neck and nibbled at the soft skin at her collarbone. Brienne let out a heavy sigh and began pulling up on Jaime’s shirt. He let her remove it but stopped her when she reached for his trousers.

“Not yet,” he whispered in her ear. His tone made it clear he had something in particular in mind.  

He went back to kissing her neck but soon started to make his way down her body. He spent a good amount of time teasing her left nipple with his tongue and teeth, as he diligently stroked the right in his good hand. This attack on her senses caused Brienne’s hips to start bucking aggressively up against his crotch.

Brienne could feel he was hard beneath the last bit of clothing he refused to discard. She did not know what it was he had in mind, keeping his trousers on, but rather than protest, she had decided to trust him.

He made his way further down her stomach, leaving trails of kisses and soft scratches from his beard along her belly. The sensation made her dizzy.  Then he stopped just below her bellybutton and brought his hand up to the curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Jaime grazed her opening but seemed more intent on teasing her than penetrating her fully. He gave her a few cursory strokes, and then moved his head down to where his hand had just been, kneeling as he did so. Brienne realized, a split second before it happened, what exactly was about to happen.

She felt the brush of his beard against her thighs first and then his tongue was inside her, touching her in that one spot that seemed to hold the key to her undoing. Brienne had to do everything in her power to keep her hips steady on the bed and already she could feel her restraint dwindling.

The pleasure was unreal, soliciting from her involuntary sounds that would have been embarrassing if she’d had had the mental presence to feel such a thing. As it was, all she could feel was him, doing _that_ to her, making her feel like she was going out of her mind and coming out of her skin.

Before Jaime had started this delightful assault, Brienne had assumed she had – more or less – reached the true depth of her arousal the night before. It was quite a shocking and unnerving thing to learn she had only scratched the surface.  

How long this went on Brienne could not have even begun to speculate. The experience quickly warped any steady sense of time she possessed. However, her arousal eventually reached a peak that was painful, and while she was sure Jaime would have been happy to make her come this way, she wanted to feel his cock inside her, and look into his face when she did.

Knowing she was quite close, Brienne pulled at Jaime’s head and brought it back up to her own.

“What is it?” he asked her, breathless.

“I want you inside me when I come,” she told him, sitting half way up to pull on the laces of his trousers and free him quickly from them.

Jaime seemed more than fine with her request, letting his trousers fall and pushing his fully erect cock down to make it level with her opening.

Unlike last night, Jaime did not hesitate this time, but simply began thrusting vigorously from the off. Brienne felt herself swing her hand up to her mouth and cover it just before she let out moan that was still likely to give pause to anyone passing by the door.   

That act alone made Jaime feel like he was on the brink, but the look she gave him above her still clasped hand was even more intoxicating.

He had always found her face rather inscrutable. It was one of the things about her that fascinated him. But at this moment, he could see what she was thinking as if her thoughts were written across her forehead.

" _How dare you make me make such a sound?”_

Jaime felt emotionally drunk off it and was suddenly a man possessed with the idea of getting her to let go and just give a proper scream to her climax.

Jaime gently moved her hand away from her mouth and quickly covered it with a kiss. Then he whispered against her lips, as he continued to thrust, and she continued to make stuttering breathless half-moans, “Don’t cover up, I want to hear you.”

Brienne looked at him with apprehension in her eyes. He could tell she was holding back because of it, trying not to show how affected she was.

Jaime bent his head and nibbled on one of her earlobes, intentionally scratching his beard against the skin of her neck as he did so. He could tell the feeling of his beard was particularly pleasing to her. 

“Please?” he asked against her ear in little more than a whisper.

In response, Jaime felt her strong legs contract aggressively around his hips and he knew she was on the verge. He upped the pace of his thrusting and watched a flush climb up Brienne’s chest rapidly.

Then her hands began to pull at his shoulders and hair, in what he was learning was a tell-tale sign of her orgasm.

“Jaime!”

While he had hoped she would let herself go enough to give voice to her pleasure, Jaime had not been prepared to hear her scream his name that way. The sound did something to him, something that made his brain feel like it was on fire. The experience translated into such an aggressive release, Jamie was sure a baby was the only possible result, in addition to the inevitable bruises on her inner thighs.

As his body rode out the aftershocks, Jaime realized absentmindedly just how sapped he (and she) had actually been the night before. That they had managed to make love twice was truly remarkable given their drunken and exhausted state.

Having rested properly, and eaten a good meal, Jaime suddenly felt he could do this with her all day – save for the council meeting she would need to be present for at 3. Indeed, he was beginning to wonder if she even really needed to go to that.


	4. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne talk about the future.

Once they had caught their breath a bit, Brienne pushed herself backward, so she was fully on the bed and then she pulled Jaime down to lay with her. While he reclined flat on his back, she turned on her side and hitched one of her impossibly long legs over both of his. It was a possessive gesture. Jaime found it endearing. 

He casually stroked her leg and looked at her. He had only ever seen her look this happy once before, and he had also had a not-insignificant hand in that. But that had been a moment of transcendent happiness, almost other-worldly. 

The look on her face now was as worldly as it gets. The post-coital glee radiated out of her, and for the first time in his life, Jaime could imagine living long-term in a place like the North; she was sunlight enough when she looked at him like that.

Then he saw her face do something enigmatic. She started to look not serious, exactly, but more contemplative. He watched her draw in a breath to say something, and then think better of it and shake her head.

Jaime gave a small chuckled and asked, “What, what were you going to say?”

“Forget it. It’s...embarrassing.” 

He stroked her hair a few times, and said, in a low voice “Tell me anyway.” 

She debated for a long moment whether or not to share, but in the end, she figured he had earned enough of her trust at this point to take the chance. 

“How do people not just...do this all the time?”

Jaime had to laugh, though there wasn’t a speck of cruelty to his mirth. He could not remember a time he had felt so flattered. 

“Well, for one thing, it usually isn’t this good. I mean, it’s often pleasant enough. But this isn’t...normal.”

“I find that oddly comforting. I’m not sure how the human race would remain functional if it were.” 

Although she seemed perfectly satisfied with his first response, Jaime could not stop himself from saying the other obvious answer that had popped into his mind when she had asked. 

“Also, babies aren’t exactly easy to birth or raise.” 

Both of them felt the air in the room change. They would have to talk about it sooner or later. And given how determined his body seemed on creating that state of affairs, sooner was preferable to later, in Jaime’s mind. 

“We should talk about it,” he said in a low voice. “It’s not exactly unlikely given the circumstances.” 

“I know. I just didn’t want you to think I was attempting to trap you into anything.”

Jaime kissed her lightly and replied, “You are the most annoyingly honorable person in Westeros. Quite possibly the entire world. If you flat out told me you were trying to do that, I wouldn’t believe you. Besides, I’m the one who knocked on your door last night.” 

She gave him a strained smile, but she still seemed ill-at-ease. 

“Do you want children?” he asked her, before he could stop himself. 

She opened her mouth, closed it, thought for long moment and finally replied, “Yes, I think I do.”

“You think?” Jaime inquired. He could tell there was more to the thought than she had initially volunteered. 

“Honestly, I hadn’t given it much thought for years. When I was a young child, I assumed I would have them when I grew up. But as I got older, the odds of it ever happening seemed...” 

Her voiced faded, and he knew all too well what she was implying. 

Jaime cupped her face with his one good hand and kissed her as gently as he could. 

“Well your odds are looking pretty decent at the moment, so you may want to give it some more thought.” 

Brienne nodded, and he glimpsed tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was blinking furiously, trying to hold them back. Now that she had finally let the last of her guards down around him, he was beginning to see just how much those taunts during her adolescences had hurt her. He had seen this woman fight warriors of every caliber, a full-grown bear, and dead men to boot, and he was beginning to suspect that all the physical pain of every one of those battles combined would never match the emotional pain she had endured during her adolescence. 

No wonder she was so much more comfortable with insults than with kindness.

“What about you?” she asked, clearly trying to solider on. “Do you want children?”

The question made Jaime feel quite conflicted. He thought of Cersei, and the child she was carrying right now. His child. He still could not wish death on either of them, but he did fervently wish to be free of his past life and self, and they were a big part of what kept him tied to it. 

But to have a new life with Brienne, or someone like her, and children he could openly claim as his own. The thought clawed at his heart. He could almost see the two of them in a brightly lit courtyard on Tarth, playing with a whole passel of children running about, screaming and laughing, all of them with bright blonde hair. 

Even imagining her pregnant – as he’d been trying not to do and failing miserably at since the first time they’d made love – gave him such a thrill he could barely contain himself. 

“Yes, I do. Under the right circumstances.”

The air in the room still felt a bit tense with the things both had left unsaid. But Jaime and Brienne each felt some relief in knowing that at least their desires in this arena were not at odds. In case anything were to happen. By accident, of course. 

The tension marinated for a moment until Brienne could tolerate it no more.

“What about your life more generally? What are you planning to do once this is all over? Return to Casterly Rock? Re-join the King’s Guard?”

Brienne was desperate to get away from the subject of babies for more reasons than she could count. Not because she was more averse to the idea than she had let on to Jaime, but because she was more attached to it than she had let on. And the prospect of getting too attached, only to have that desire ultimately thwarted was already agony to Brienne. She refused to give the idea any more room to grow roots inside her. 

“I doubt the King’s Guard will have me, assuming Daenerys takes the throne. Not only am I somewhat impaired –” 

He held up his handless arm to make his meaning clear.

“—but she also doesn’t trust me, given what I did to her father. And I don’t blame her. Plus, I don’t think I want to live permanently in King’s Landing. Too many bad memories.” 

He paused and seemed fairly deep in thought. Brienne let him linger there without comment. 

“But to be honest, I am trying to avoid making long-term plans until the rest of this situation resolves itself. So many things could happen. And I don’t want to get attached to an idea that turns out to be impossible.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

He could hear in her voice that she meant it. For a long moment, they both lay there lost in their own thoughts. Finally, however, Brienne felt the pull of duty override her instinct to remain here with him indefinitely. 

“However, in the short term,” she continued, “I think we should probably get dressed and rejoin society.” 

Jaime watched Brienne rise, pick her house coat up off the floor, and don it once again. Then she retrieved a pail of water from beside the fire and put it right in front of the flames, as close as it could get without touching. She left it there and started gathering up her scattered clothes from the night before and laying them out. 

Given that he was not expected at the council meeting, Jaime did not feel the same sense of urgency as Brienne to make himself presentable to the world. So instead, he remained reposed on her bed and watched as she disrobed once more, dipped a hefty cloth into the warming pail of water and began to wash herself. 

Jaime knew she could tolerate the dirt and grime of a soldier’s life, but when it came down to it, she preferred to be clean. He remembered walking in on her bath at Harrenhal. It was a memory he had revisited quite a lot over the years, and he recalled, as if it were yesterday, how she had nearly scrubbed her own skin off in her attempt to get clean after their long ordeal. At the time he had found it _more_ interesting than alluring, per se. She had seemed so mannish to him up until that point. To watch her do something so relatively ladylike had been a novelty to him.

Jaime also recalled it was the first time he had felt any kind of clear attraction to her, faint though it had been. It had surprised him for a number of reasons. For one, in those days, he had still considered her quite plain, to put it mildly. But even more to the point, his severe pain due to the recent loss of his hand and the treatment of it that very afternoon had left him more physically drained than he ever remembered feeling, before or since. That his body had had the wherewithal to feel any kind of sexual inclination had almost surprised him more than the fact that _she_ had invoked it.

However, back in the present, Jaime found Brienne's bathing ritual nothing but alluring, and once again found himself wishing he were the poetic type. She was a vision with her impossibly tall, yet curvy frame and pale skin glowing in the firelight. Soft tendrils of water dripped down her hills and valleys and made him long once again to run his tongue over every inch of her. 

In fact, she was so alluring like that, Jaime found he had to look away. Otherwise he was likely to end up in quite a frustrated state. What was more, he didn’t want to be tempted to tempt her. Quite likely, she would give in, and then resent him afterwards for making her bath for nothing. 

So instead, he got up and followed suit, retrieving his clothing and arranging it on the bed. He intended to make the same use of her water and rag after she was done. He almost certainly smelled heavily of sex, and while ashamed was the last thing he felt about it, it also seemed uncouth to flaunt it. 

Soon enough Brienne put the rag back in the pail and moved to retrieve a larger cloth hung over the doors of her wardrobe. She diligently dried her front, arms, and legs. However, Jaime felt compelled to take over for her to dry her back. 

With his one good hand, he took the drying cloth from her and ran it slowly, softly down her spine, kissing the nape of her neck lightly as he did so. 

Then she turned to him and said, in a low, husky voice, “Don’t tempt me.”

“I wasn’t.”

She gave him an exaggerated, skeptical look.

“Believe me, if I was trying to tempt you, you’d be on your back by now.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” she whispered, the bite of her tone laced with amusement. 

Jaime grinned at her, gave her a brief open-mouthed kiss, and then said, “Move, it’s my turn.” 

Brienne smiled at him slyly and then moved to put her clothes back on. Jaime took over the abandoned rag in the pail and ran it over as much of his body as he could manage. It was not perfect, but only a real bath would be perfect, and that was not on offer at the moment. 

Once done, he started to dry himself, but soon his fully clothed companion took the cloth from him and began wiping him down. Jaime savored the experience, for it felt strangely decadent. Mostly it wasn’t even sexual. There was a quiet reverence to the way she touched him like this that was so – there was no other word for it – loving. 

And the experience left Jaime once again battling the terrifying fear that she was simply too good for him and he would never really be worthy of her. 

“Thanks,” he said in an undertone. He felt a bit embarrassed by how much her small act had affected him and he was determined to avoid getting overly emotional about a thing so inconsequential. 

While she moved to hang up the drying cloth, Jaime went to the bed where his clothes were laid out. He could do his shirt on his own fairly easily, but the trousers were always more of an ordeal. However, he had barely begun step into them when Brienne took hold of the right side and together, they pulled them into place around Jaime’s hips. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. You aren’t my nursemaid.” 

Jaime truly had not intended to say it. Earlier this morning, he had relished the idea of getting a bit of mundane help with such tasks. Yet the minute Brienne gave it to him, he was suddenly snapping at her for reasons that were not even clear to him. 

From his tone, as much as his words, Brienne could feel the guardedness seeping back into their relationship and she was utterly perplexed by it.

Was he afraid she pitied him? Did he worry she would come to see him as weak? Did he not want to take advantage of her? Was he trying to avoid getting too attached to her? Why was he suddenly bristling at her help? 

Under the prior circumstances of their relationship, Brienne would have just accepted him running hot and cold on her and took it in stride. But last night changed things, and she felt a bit more entitled to explanations from him. 

“Why are you making kindness into a problem?” 

Jaime looked at her dumbstruck, and she could tell he was not entirely sure in his own right. They held each other’s gazes for a tense moment, and then he let out a breath, looked away and sat down on the bed in a posture of defeat. 

“I don’t know. I just don’t ever want you to think of me as—”

Brienne tried to be patient, but her anxiety got the better of her.

“What? Weak? A burden?”

“An obligation. But thanks for the other suggestions.”

“No, I wasn’t trying to say—”

“I know. I just...I know how you are. When you feel you owe someone something, you’ll give your life for them. You don’t do anything halfway. It’s one of the things that makes you extraordinary. I just, I want you to understand – this should only ever feel like a choice to you. It isn’t an obligation and it shouldn’t ever feel like one.” 

Brienne took in his words and let them sit for a long moment before she replied, barely above a whisper, “Thank you.”

She went back to helping him, crouching down in front of him to assist him in putting on his stockings and boots. This time, he let her without reservation. 

When she was done, she stood up and spoke to him with as much solemnity as he had ever heard from her. 

“And I hope you know the reverse is also true. Please don’t ever stay with me just because you feel honor bound to. I would rather not have you at all than have you like that.” 

Jaime rose, took Brienne head in his hand and kissed her softly. 

“I promise.” 

The irony of his declaration did not escape either of them. But it also required no comment.


	5. Inquiries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne talks to Sansa, Jaime talks to Tyrion. The next chapter will get back to sexy times, I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind comments so far. Really glad you are getting something out of this fic!

Brienne found Sansa in the dining hall. She was having a meeting with Samwell Tarly and one of the men in charge of keeping the food stores tallied and in good order. Samwell’s companion Gilly was also there with her small boy, though she was clearly not part of the actual affair at hand. 

When Sansa noticed Brienne arrive, she called a halt to the discussion to ask, “Is everything alright, Lady Brienne?”

“Yes, Lady Sansa. When you have a moment, there is a matter I should like to discuss with you. But I assure you it is not at all urgent.” 

Sansa smiled and nodded. 

“Absolutely. If you are not needed elsewhere, feel free to wait. We shall be done in just a few moments. Have you breakfasted yet? We could call for some food.”

“No need, M’Lady. I have already eaten. Lord Tyrion was kind enough to have someone bring us a tray.” 

She said it causally, and only realized after the words had left her mouth that she had unthinkingly said “us.” Brienne could feel the blush creep up in her cheeks, but she did not bother to try and walk it back. That would only draw more attention to it. 

Sansa’s face registered just the faintest hint of amusement, but she followed Brienne’s lead in not making anything more of it. Instead she indicated Brienne should take a seat and Brienne did as asked. She lowered herself onto one of the hall benches, near to Gilly and her little one, who was playing with some blocks on a large wolf skin rug on the floor. Brienne watched them with a newfound fascination. 

She had always rather liked babies and youngins, in a distant sort of way. But she had not had the chance to really spend any time with them as an adult. There were many things in the world Brienne felt more competent at than most women would ever be. But this was something that made her feel way out of her depth and she worried that perhaps, like many other traditionally feminine attributes, she lacked the innate competence to be a mother. 

Just as she was beginning to spiral down that thought path, she faintly heard Sansa issue some kind of sendoff to Tarly and the other man, and she watched them all head out before standing again and approaching Sansa. 

“Is everything alright, M’Lady?”

Brienne was curious as to what the meeting was about.

“Yes, it’s fine. Samwell is handling the care of many of the wounded, and I was just confirming that Winterfell had sufficient provisions for all the remaining soldiers – healthy and otherwise.” 

“Very diligent, M’Lady.” 

“What can I do for you Lady Brienne? Please, come sit by me, you don’t need to stand there.” 

Sansa indicated the chair next to her that Tarly had previously occupied, and Brienne debated for a split second before taking it. While she likely would have stayed standing for a more formal request, she was ultimately asking for a personal favor from Sansa, and it felt strange to treat their relationship as overly formal when Brienne was trying to leverage their personal bond with one another. 

“Lady Sansa I am hoping you might be willing to give leave for Ser Jaime to stay here at Winterfell for the remainder of my stay here. As a personal favor to me.”

Sansa smiled, and her expression told Brienne, in no uncertain terms, she had a full grasp of the situation and had expected this request.

Instead of answering the question head-on, however, Sansa inquired, “Was last night your first night with him?”

Brienne faltered for a moment, seeming more confused than put-off by the question. 

“Um, yes, it was, as a matter of fact.” 

“And you plan to keep bedding him, I assume?”

Brienne was not so much offended by Sansa’s line of questioning as genuinely surprised by it. The Lady of Winterfell was typically quite formal and proper in her manner, and while Brienne was aware she knew the ways of the world, she tended to be rather reserved about such things as a general rule. 

“In truth, yes, my Lady.” 

“Do you two intend to marry?”

Brienne felt herself blush slightly at that question. 

“He and I are avoiding such questions until we have a better idea what state Westeros will be in after the attack on King’s Landing.”

Sansa nodded in response to that. 

“That sounds wise. I know all too well how warfare and political maneuvering can change our romantic possibilities and inclinations.” 

Sansa was quiet for another long moment, and then she asked, point-blank, “Do you love him?” 

“I...yes, I believe I do.” 

“And he loves you.” 

“Well, I don’t know if I would go so far as to say that, M’Lady—” 

“No, it wasn’t a question. He loves you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not at all like most men look at me. It’s...pure. I envy you.” 

“I confess, I don’t entirely know what to say.” 

Sansa appeared on the verge of asking something further, but Brienne could see she had reservations about voicing her thoughts this time around. 

Finally, she inquired, “May I ask you something highly personal? You are very free to decline to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

Brienne nodded, and Sansa was silent for another moment while she formulated the question she was trying to ask. It seemed to Brienne that she suddenly looked much younger. 

“Was your experience with Ser Jaime...pleasant?” 

“I would say that’s an understatement M’Lady.” 

“How much of an understatement?” 

Though she covered it well, Brienne could hear the tiniest hint of anxiety in Sansa’s voice, and she had an inkling what this was about. She knew the girl had been in a chaste marriage with Lord Tyrion and was brutally raped by Ramsey Bolton. She had grown into womanhood with no mother, or older sisters she could speak to frankly and with trust about such matters. Likely some of the women at King’s Landing – Cersei, Margaery, even Lady Olenna– had tried to speak to her about it at some point. But their perspectives were not exactly free of their own machinations. 

Brienne was likely one of the few women Sansa still knew who could give her honest, yet wholly well-intentioned, insight and advice on the matter. The strangeness of that did not escape her in the slightest. But she felt very inclined to reassure her all the same. 

“M’Lady, I will be very honest with you. I was a virgin until last night. My experience in this arena is still quite limited. But I can tell you, with absolute certainty, when done right, it can be the single greatest pleasure this world has to offer.” 

Sansa smiled at this response, and Brienne could see a wave of calm come over the young woman. Perhaps she had some good maternal instincts after all. 

“I am genuinely pleased to hear you say that. Of course, Ser Jaime may stay here as my guest for as long as you remain at Winterfell.”

“I am very grateful M’Lady. Thank you.” 

“Of course.”

Brienne rose and took a few steps toward the door before she turned back to say, “And, if you would ever like to talk about this with me again, you are very welcome to, Lady Sansa.” 

Sansa smiled at her with sincere gratitude, and Brienne left the room feeling lighter than she’d felt in a long, long time. 

*~*

Aside from Brienne, Jaime had one person at Winterfell he considered a friend, and he was currently on a mission to hunt him down. Likely Tyrion was conferring on a small council meeting prior to the larger one happening later today. Hand of the Queen, and all that. 

As Jaime wandered about Winterfell rather aimlessly, he began to get a better sense of how the place worked and who was responsible for what. On the assumption that Brienne’s talk with Sansa would fall in his favor, Jaime knew he would likely be put to work in some capacity around the castle. He was still able-bodied enough for many jobs, and as generous as Sansa Stark might be, he doubted it would be acceptable for him to simply lounge about in Brienne’s quarters during the day and warm her bed at night. 

And as much as that idea appealed to him at the moment, Jaime also knew he would get bored doing only that, sooner or later. He could be at Winterfell for a while. Realistically he needed something to occupy him beyond being Brienne’s paramour. 

Eventually Jaime simply stopped his aimless wandering and found a place to observe along the second-floor walkway that overlooked the courtyard. Watching the comings and goings of the castle he became so lost in thought, he did not notice his brother until he saddled right up next to him and asked, “So, did you get the gift I left for you this morning?”

Jaime turned to him and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you for that. It was extremely thoughtful.” 

“Where is your newly deflowered Knight, anyway? Have you already driven her away with your deeply disappointing sexual performance?”

“No. As a matter of fact, she’s currently speaking to the Lady of Winterfell on my behalf.”

“Ah, so she actually wants you to stick around for a bit. Surprising. I figured surely she’d grow bored of you by...three fucks?”

Jaime knew in reality his brother had just made a lucky guess. But he also couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow Tyrion could tell. 

“I’m not sharing details,” Jaime replied, avoiding his brothers gaze for fear it would make Tyrion even more insightful. 

“I’d wager two pretty bog-standard last night, and one early morning poke from behind to relieve you of your morning wood.”

“Close, but not quite,” Jaime conceded after a brief pause. He knew if he gave his brother nothing, Tyrion would just keep saying more and more outrageous things to goad him into sharing something. 

“Also, isn’t it a bit early to be talking like that? Or have you already been in the wine stores this morning?”

“Nope, sober as a baby, unfortunately. Just desperate for a conversation that doesn’t involve soldiers and supply lines and military strategy. It is both highly dull and highly depressing. Plus, how will I live vicariously through you without details?”

“Why do you need to live vicariously through me at all? You may have lost your appetite for whores, but I’m sure there are enough women around here who wouldn’t say no to the Hand of the Queen, particularly one as charming as you.” 

“A woman saying ‘yes’ to me is no longer enough.” 

“What would be enough?”

“If I trusted her. And at the moment, there are maybe three women in the entire world I could say that I trust. One of them is sleeping with my brother. One of them has two dragons, a formidable army, and an on-going love affair with a powerful ally. And the other...isn’t an option.” 

“Who is it?”

Jaime had an inkling but he was not inclined to assume. Tyrion gave him a slightly dark and forlorn look. 

“My former wife, the current Lady of Winterfell.”

Jaime had suspected as much. He had the strong sense there was a lot more going on there than was apparent on the surface. He knew the broad strokes of Tyrion’s past with Sansa, but he could tell his brother’s disposition towards her was more complicated than those broad strokes would suggest. 

“And where we’re going, I doubt I’m likely to come across any women at all who are not inveigled in some sort of social climbing or power-brokering scheme.”

“Yes, King’s Landing is not exactly a place that fosters trustworthy relationships between people.” 

“No.”

“I’m hoping to avoid returning there for quite some time. Frankly, I think I’d be quite happy never to return.” 

“So you don’t plan to join the Queen and her army during the battle for King’s Landing?” 

“If she commanded me to, I would not refuse. But all things being equal, Brienne and I would both prefer to stay here.”

“I imagine that should be possible, but final decisions on those matters will likely be made at the larger council meeting today.” 

“Yes, I assumed as much. So, what are the Dragon Queen and the King of the North planning?” 

“Pretty straightforward siege on the city. Although we lost many men in the Battle for Winterfell, we still believe we outnumber Cersei’s troops. And while two dragons is less impressive than three, it is still enough to give us a good advantage. Speaking of, you don’t know of any tricks Cersei might have up her formidable sleeves that would be important for us to know about before we attack?”

“I know she was planning to employ the Golden Company from Essos. She had already sent for them by the time I left for Winterfell.” 

“How many?” 

“Ten thousand.”

“Damn. Well, I will let them know. But I doubt that changes things significantly.” 

Just then Jaime glimpsed Brienne walking towards them, behind Tyrion. It dawned on him as she approached that he was not exactly sure how he should address her anymore in polite company. To just call her Brienne in front of others felt overly familiar; yet it felt unnaturally formal to refer to her now as “Lady Brienne” or “Ser Brienne.” Not that they needed to stand on tradition for Tyrion’s sake. But still, the question vexed him more than he would have anticipated. 

Seeing Jaime’s eyeline, Tyrion turned around, and made the first solicitation. 

“Ser Brienne.”

“Lord Tyrion.”

Brienne and Jaime met gazes, smiled, and silently agreed a spoken greeting was unnecessary. 

“I wanted to thank you for your thoughtful gesture this morning, My Lord. It was much appreciated.” 

“You are most welcome. I assumed you might need a little pick-me-up after my brother undoubtedly made a poor showing for you last night.” 

Jaime had hoped their little conversation a moment ago might have rid Tyrion of the impulse to be slightly inappropriate with Brienne. Apparently, that hope had been very much in vain. He gave a quick glance to Brienne to ensure she was not genuinely offended, and her face immediately told him all was well.

She smiled sincerely at Tyrion, and her voice became husky as she replied, “I wouldn’t call it poor, exactly.” 

As she said this, she returned his gaze, and he could see the desire swirling again in her sapphire eyes. He felt his cock twitch and was grateful for the layers mandated by the weather in the North. Otherwise, the situation would have become downright embarrassing very quickly, especially given his brother’s eyeline. 

“I cannot tell you both just how much I am enjoying this conversation,” Jaime interjected, with just a speck of bite in his voice. 

“At any rate, I have good news,” Brienne said, her voice returning to its normal timbre. “I spoke to Lady Sansa, and she has agreed to let you stay here as a guest for the duration of my stay.” 

“Thank you. That’s quite a relief, actually.” 

“Ser Brienne, I assume you plan to attend the council meeting later today at three?” Tyrion asked.

“I do.” 

“Well, then, I suggest the two of you run along and make the most of your early afternoon. I anticipate things might actually get quite busy this evening, if the meeting goes as I suspect it will.” 

“The Queen is leaning towards setting off immediately, then?” Brienne asked.

“Yes, strongly so. I myself am ambivalent on the matter. But all will be discussed in detail later on. I am sure you both have much more interesting things to see to at the moment. I, unfortunately, have been tasked with finding Samwell Tarly to give the Queen an update on the status of the wounded, which will no doubt rid me of any appetite until dinner, at least. I hope I shall at least be decent company by then so that we may resurrect our interrupted game from last night.” 

Without waiting for a reply, Tyrion made his way toward the stairs and began his descent. At first, Brienne and Jaime remained fixed to the spot as they watched him go. They waited until it did not feel utterly crass to turn away and make haste to Brienne’s room for exactly the purpose he had proposed. 

They waited exactly that long, and not a second longer.


	6. The Past in the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes have sex, talk about the past, and then have some more sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter so far. I hope you all enjoy it!

A small time later, Brienne found herself straddling Jaime’s upright form in front of her room’s fireplace. He had moved her fur coverlet down to the floor which is where they had started up their erotic activities once again. Currently Jaime was sat cross-legged beneath Brienne as she balanced herself astride him and rode his cock with long, deep, slow thrusts. 

They seemed to have reached the point where they did not solely feel the animal compulsion to just fuck each other senseless. While their lust for one another remained strong, they both had better control over it by now, allowing them to slow down and savor the experience a bit more. 

Brienne had already come once since they had begun their afternoon dalliance, and while she would have been happy for another, she also felt a certain pleasurable delight in simply holding Jaime inside her and being this intimate with him. 

He seemed to be holding back on purpose, however, trying to make it last as long as possible. It read a bit like a game to Brienne, or perhaps a test – how long could Jaime keep this up without giving in fully. In some ways, it reminded Brienne of the early days of their relationship, when he would be contrarian with her just for the sake of it. It had amused him then, and it seemed to have a similar effect on him now. 

Brienne trailed lingering kisses from his collar bone up to his ear and then asked in it, barely above a whisper, “Why are you holding back?”

He smiled impishly at her and replied, “I want to see how many times I can make you come first.” 

At first, Brienne seriously considered entertaining his agenda. There were far, far, _far_ worse things. However, his smugness bothered her just enough that she had a need to bring him down a peg. He wasn’t the only one here who could play that game. 

She gave him a long open-mouthed kiss, deliberately lulling him into a false sense of security before she placed her hands on his shoulders and forcibly pushed him down so his back was flush with the floor. 

He almost seemed winded by the act, but Brienne could tell it was more surprise than anything thing else. However, very soon his look of shock was replaced with one of anticipation. She could tell this was something of a sexual sweet spot for him. 

He seemed inclined to take charge by default, but he also seemed to like it when she took control back from him. He seemed to like it _a lot_ , in point of fact. 

Brienne kept her left hand where it was, pinning his shoulder to the ground as she elevated her hips and disengaged their bodies. Jaime uncrossed his legs to lie completely flat. 

Brienne then slide her left hand down his chest as she backed up and resettled herself between his legs. She had been wanting to try this since she had first seen his naked, erect cock last night. And having been on the receiving end of what she assumed was the closest equivalent this morning, she inferred she would not have much trouble getting him to come for her this way. 

First, she ran her right hand over his erection a few times in steady strokes, feeling her slick still clinging to him. She deliberately watched his face as she did so, seeing the little fleeting expressions of particular pleasure she knew he was resisting – or trying to, at least.

Then she took both her hands, placed them firmly on his hips, and bent over to put him inside her mouth.

Despite her formidable strength, she could not completely stop his hips from jerking towards her slightly as she teased the underside of his cock with her tongue. He was too big to fully put inside her mouth, but she liked dragging her tongue from the base to the tip and then sucking vigorously on the half of him she could comfortably envelope. 

She repeated this until his breathing became so labored, it sounded to Brienne as if he had just run ten miles. He made utterly delightful sounds at the back of his throat that sent shivers of arousal through her. It made her want to touch herself as she continued her ministrations on him. 

She refrained but kept the thought in the back of her mind as she continued to suck and lick at his swollen appendage that was now a particularly angry shade of pink. She could tell he was reaching the point where his erection was more painful than pleasurable, and she considered her options for finishing him. 

Part of her wanted to put him back inside her, but she felt they had done enough to tempt the fertility gods for one day. She also worried about letting him try to come in her mouth. While he was clearly doing his best not to thrust too much, her gag response was pretty strong, and she suspected he may not be able to control himself, far gone as he was. Plus, she wanted to actually see him come. She wanted to know what it looked like. 

Then she had an idea. Grabbing Jaime’s left hand with her right, she brought it up to the juncture of her legs. He seemed only too happy to have the opportunity to touch her again. When his fingers passed her outer lips and began stroking her, he exclaimed, “Gods you are wet!” 

She let him get in a few good strokes without distraction before she spit lightly in her own right hand, and then began vigorously pumping it along the shaft of his cock. 

“Fuck!” Jaime exclaimed, and for a brief moment, he was too distracted to keep up his efforts on her. She felt his hand go limp and although she immediately felt bereft at the loss of his touch, it did also make her feel like she was winning this little game of theirs. 

However, Jaime recovered fairly quickly and got even more enthusiastic. Apparently, he was still trying to get her to come again first. Brienne was determined not to let him have his way this time, if only to test a theory of hers. 

He put up a valiant effort, but she also did have the advantage of having come once already during their afternoon escapade. With her initial hunger satiated, she ultimately had more endurance than him, and that tipped the balance in her favor. 

Although it was likely all of a minute in reality, after what felt like a short eternity of their mutual touching, she saw his hips begin to buck in that more erratic way that signaled his orgasm. Brienne kept up the rhythm of her hand and looked intently at his cock, which was almost purple by this point. 

The second she saw the white spurt of liquid leave him, she buckled over on his hand, and felt her legs contract aggressively around it. The image of him coming all over her hand and onto his own stomach sent an instant wave of electric heat down through Brienne’s body and shook her at her very core. 

It was a reaction she had anticipated in kind, but not degree. She had assumed she would find the image appealing, thought it might add a little bit of pleasure to her experience. She had not realized it would instantaneously trigger in her a release so dramatic, she literally felt weak afterwards. 

And she had not felt weak in a long, long time. 

Brienne collapsed next to Jaime on his right side, deliberately leaving him closer to the fire. She needed to cool off. 

For a good little while, the only sounds that rent the room were the crackling of the fire and the heavy breathing of two people who were surprised anew at just how much pleasure they could give to one another and receive in kind. Slowly, slowly, their respiration returned to normal and when it did, Jaime was the first to break the silence. 

“Never would have pegged you for a woman who likes to watch,” he said, as he pulled at a corner of her coverlet to clean himself. 

Brienne was so surprised by his statement, she did not have time to feel any sort of reservations before she responded. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You just don’t strike me as the type.” 

Brienne found this statement curious. 

“What type do I strike you as?” she asked. 

Jaime rolled to his side and sat up a bit to lean on his right arm. He looked her in the face, contemplating her question – what sexual inclinations would he expect of someone like her? 

“I can’t exactly say. I just wouldn’t have expected something like that to affect you so.” 

“Is there anything else about me that you did not expect?”

She seemed genuinely interested, so Jaime considered her question in earnest before he continued. 

“I am surprised you are so comfortable being naked. I assumed you’d be the sort of woman who always wants to make love under the blankets in the dark and immediately re-dress afterwards.” 

Brienne couldn’t feign any surprise at that. She had always been careful to keep herself physically hidden from others. She had long ago figured out that the less of her they could see, the less of her there was to mock. 

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m grateful that’s not your style after all.” 

“Anything else?” 

She could see Jaime struggling to decide what to say next. 

“Yes, but I don’t know how to say it without perhaps insulting you.”

Brienne looked at him and concluded her curiosity outweighed the potential of him slighting her.

“Tell me anyway, and I promise I will not assume any offense is intended.” 

Jaime sighed. He still seemed a bit hesitant, but he came down on the side of trusting her. 

“I’m surprised you actually do favor men.”

Brienne found this remark not particularly insulting, but definitely confusing. 

“I don’t understand. You knew about Renly.” 

“Yes, and for a while I figured perhaps part of his appeal to you was that he would never like you back – at least not in that way. I thought perhaps he was a safe, unthreatening man you could place your adoration on who would never force you to confront the possibility of actually having sex with a man.”

“So, did you assume I liked women, or that I just wasn’t interested at all?” 

“At first, I assumed you preferred your own. That seems to be fairly common among women who dress like men. But after a while, given how aggressively isolated you seemed, I began to think maybe you just didn’t like anyone, in any manner – sexual or otherwise.”

It was an understandable inference for him to make. 

“You were closer to the mark there. I don’t inherently dislike people, but I dislike people who dislike me, and most people seem to dislike me.”

At her words, Jaime could not suppress a wide smile. 

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s just...in spite of how we met, I liked you almost immediately.” 

“That cannot possibly be true.” 

“It is. We may have been enemies by circumstance, but I admired you as a fighter, and as someone valiantly committed to their cause. And I liked that you were not boring.” 

“You had a peculiar way of showing it. You were so awful to me at first.”

“Well, to be fair, I was your prisoner and I was trying to escape. I thought I could goad you into making an error I could take advantage of. Besides, I never got the sense you were actually listening to me most of the time. Truth be told, it used to really annoy me how well you seemed to tune me out.” 

“I never tuned you out. I heard all of it. I had just grown adept at pretending by the time I met you.” 

“Would an apology now count for anything?”

“It would, but it’s unnecessary.”

Jaime took her face in his palm and kissed her. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

“Water well under the bridge by now. But thank you anyway.” 

They heard the bells toll two and relaxed a bit with the knowledge they still had an hour left to themselves. 

“What about me?” Jaime inquired. “Has anything about me surprised you?”

Brienne looked him in the eyes and considered his question for a long moment. Only one thing came to mind, and she was hesitant to say it. It made her sound like she was fishing for a complement. 

Jaime must have seen that she was conflicted because eventually he said, “Just tell me.” 

“Fine. I was surprised that you...wanted me.” 

A strange look came over his face. He quickly became the one conflicted about whether or not to share. 

“Just tell me,” Brienne said, deliberately echoing his own words. 

“I was surprised by that, too.” 

A slightly tense silence filled the room, and Jaime felt compelled to explain more thoroughly. 

“I remember the first time I felt that way towards you. I thought I was half delusional. It was in the baths at Harrenhal. I was nearly out of my mind with pain, but when you stood up, angry and naked and glistening, I got half hard looking at you. And that was just the first time.” 

Hearing him talk like this was making Brienne’s groin begin to throb once again. She wanted to hear more. 

“And the times after?”

Although her demeanor barely changed, Jaime could hear the slight rise in her tone as her words became more breathless. She was enjoying this. 

“The rest were on the road back to King’s Landing. And a few times after. But mostly on the road. During the nights, I used to ask myself what would happen if I tried to touch you. I told myself that it was just curiosity. And that part was true enough – I didn’t know how you’d react. I was curious. But, particularly looking back on it now, there was also a part of me that desperately wanted to believe you’d say yes.” 

Brienne’s surprise at this confession was quite sincere. Although their relationship had indelibly changed after the affairs at Herranhal, she had never sensed that his feelings toward her at that point exceeded grudging respect and a certain sense of reciprocal obligation.

“You hid it well. I would never have dreamed you had any sentiments toward me beyond duty, and perhaps a touch of camaraderie.” 

They let her words hang in the air a good long while before Jaime, seeming unable to help himself, asked, “What would have happened, if I had tried to touch you then?”

“I’d have assumed you were mocking me and probably punched you.” 

Jaime let out a small chuckle. That was absolutely how he had imagined that scenario would play out as well. It was part of why he had never seriously entertained the notion to actually try it. That, and his irrational devotion to Cersei. But still. 

Yet Jaime’s curiosity remained unsatisfied. 

“But suppose, somehow, I had managed to convince you my desire was sincere. What would have happened, do you think?” 

“I think...” 

Brienne tried to send herself back to those chilly, strange nights along the Kingsroad with Jaime and the others. At that point, she had still fancied herself more attached to Renly Baratheon, and more devoted to her oath to Catelyn Stark than interested in pursuing anything for her own sake – romantic, sexual, or otherwise. 

It was also damn near impossible to imagine how Jaime could have made Brienne believe at that point that a solicitation was sincere. But granting that he could have, somehow, Brienne knew, deep down, exactly what would have happened. 

“I think we both would have risen the next day with embarrassing tears in our clothing.” 

Jaime’s cock had been hovering around half-mast for most of this conversation. But hearing that sentence come out of her mouth jolted into his mind an image of the two of them in the grass by the riverbed, under the stars, aggressively discarding clothing as they clawed their way toward connection. He could almost hear the fabric ripping amid their heavy breathing; he could almost see the awkward fumbling followed by the rapid humping, as his backside and Brienne’s knees got totally covered in the dirt. It was enough to bring him to a full erection in an instant. 

In response to this mental image, Jaime grabbed her head and kissed her fiercely. He somehow felt irrationally angry that he could not give that moment to their past selves, and he was filled with the desire to give their present selves something as close as possible. 

Rolling onto his back, he pulled Brienne with him, and just like in his daydream, she put her knees on either side of his hips, guided him inside her and began thrusting herself against him like a beast in heat. 

As Jaime watched her move with such primal enthusiasm, the image of her here at Winterfell fucking him on a wolf-skin coverlet by the firelight melded in his imagination with the scene he’d conjured of her fucking him in the dirt and grass beneath the stars on the Kingsroad, and Jaime felt absolutely out of his mind with desire over it. 

With his one good hand, he clawed at her breast, her hips, her back, her neck, trying to say without words just how much he needed this from her in this moment. 

However, close to his precipice, he felt her slow down and begin to pull away. 

“What is it?” Jaime asked, barely able to keep the frustration out of his voice. 

“I think maybe we should finish another way,” she said, in a tone riddled with distaste for what she said. “I’m not sure we should be tempting a pregnancy this much.” 

Jaime almost gave in, but it occurred to him that part of his frustration in this moment was borne of his refusal to be honest with her – and himself – sooner. Weighing that, he decided to risk this time what he had been too cowardly to risk so many times before. 

He gave her a long, deep kiss as she straddled his stomach, just above his unsheathed cock, and then he said, point blank, with all the passion in him, “I don’t really care. Do you?”

He knew if she said she did, he would not press the matter. But the resolve in her tone had felt so weak, and obligatory. She had not even put much effort into pretending it was what she actually wanted. And Jaime was over pretending he believed her half-hearted reservations. 

Her eyes widened, and he could see a mix of fear and excitement in them that told him instantly what her answer was. 

“No.” 

The sound had barely escaped her lips before Jaime reached down between them, put his cock back inside her, and thrust upward as she moaned with pleasure. Her convulsions came first, and his followed soon after, this time utterly untinged with guilt. They were both done pretending to feel reservations they didn’t have about how this was likely to pan out. 

Jaime could not remember the last time he felt so light.


	7. Fighting Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne do a bit more strolling down memory lane. Tyrion and Brienne have a heart to heart about Jaime.

Jaime knew, after they had caught their breath once more, there would not be time for another round before Brienne had to become presentable again. But she still had a good half hour left, at least, and he wasn’t quite done with the conversation he and his libido had disrupted. 

“When did you first start to realize you fancied me?” 

Brienne gave a small chuckle and then seemed lost in thought. 

“I can’t really pinpoint a moment. After the bear pit, I knew I would always care about you. And I grew quite attached to you on the road south to King’s Landing. But at the time I still very much imagined myself in love with Renly. I think, for a while, it prevented me from seeing much in you besides a strange kind of friendship. Although...”

Brienne paused, and she seemed to be digging through her own mind to recall something. 

“I am not sure whether I dreamed this, or if it really happened. But maybe three days out from the capital, I woke up in the middle of the night and needed a piss. We had made camp close to the river, and I went to the edge of it to go, and I saw you in there in the moonlight, bathing. Was that a dream?”

“No, I remember that. It definitely happened. I remember because I toyed with the notion of waking you up and asking if you wanted to join me, but thought better of it. Or perhaps worse. Hard to say in retrospect. Anyway...”

He gestured for her to continue. 

“Anyway, I saw you in the moonlight, naked, and that was the first time I desired you. At the time, I believed it was not personal. I thought it was simply because you were a handsome man, and I feel as many women do when it comes to that.” 

“You should have joined me. Maybe if you had, a lot of this would have turned out differently.”

“Different does not necessarily mean better. Perhaps if I had joined you, all of this would have turned out worse.” 

“That’s...entirely possible.”

Jaime had long ago stopped trying to trace the dominos of his life back to where the forks were. He knew it would make him crazy to get in the habit of indulging every possible counter-factual. His brother had a tendency to do that. It was partly why he was Hand of the Queen, and partly why he drank as much as he did. 

Jaime was, however, still interested in hearing a bit more about Brienne’s felled dominos. 

“So, by the river while you spied on me was the first time. What about after?”

“This is going to sound absolutely mad, but do you remember that conversation we had back at King’s Landing about Sansa Stark and keeping the oath to Lady Catelyn?”

“Of course.” 

“You asked me if I was sure I was not a Lannister and I...could have sworn you were comparing me with your sister. Crazy as it sounds, for a moment, I actually thought it was some kind of strange proposition.” 

“I hadn’t meant it as one intentionally...”

“No, I knew you couldn’t have. But I’ll never forgot the thrill that rushed through me. I could barely breathe. That was when I knew I felt something for you beyond friendship.” 

Jaime nodded, and Brienne could tell he wanted more, but was reticent to ask. She decided to make him ask anyway. 

He made a face like _continue_ , and Brienne feigned ignorance.

“What?” she asked. 

“Go on, I want more details.” 

“Like what?” 

“What was your first sexual fantasy about me?” 

Brienne let out an incredulous noise, and took on a playful, affected tone as she replied, “Excuse me, what makes you think I had sexual fantasies about you?”

“Well, didn’t you?” 

“You first. What was your first sexual fantasy about me?”

Jaime looked frustrated, but he quickly conceded to her request. 

“It was somewhere along the Kingsroad, after the healing in my arm had really started to take. I was lying awake one night, feeling generally in the mood to fuck, but given I did not have many available prospects, I figured I was on my own. I struggled for a bit with my left hand and none of my usual sources of inspiration were feeling all that inspiring. Then I heard you stir in the night. Suddenly, I thought of when I first said good bye to you at Harrenhal, and you were wearing that absurd pink gown. Something about that image just lit a fire in me, and I fantasized about pushing you up against a wall, hiking that gown up to your waist and just ravishing you. I remember feeling worried afterwards about just how effective that fantasy had been. It took me seconds to come after I’d conjured up that particular image of you.”

Brienne took in his words and was still trying to decide how to feel about them when he asked, “So, what was your first sexual fantasy about me?”

“I couldn’t exactly say which was first. But there were two I used to regularly entertain. One was in a bath, similar to the one at Harrenhal. But you were as you were after we returned to King’s Landing – clean, well-fed, not an inch from passing out. You would join me, like you did then, and we would make love in the warm water.”

Jaime smiled at this. He had not been immune to the occasional tub fantasy himself. 

“What’s the other one?”

“I used to imagine us sparing together, somewhere private. Somehow during our match, you would lose your balance and fall on top of me during the fight. You’d kiss me, and I’d kiss you back, and soon enough, we’d be fucking on the floor.” 

“You know, for a woman without any real-life experience in such things, you had a pretty impressive imagination.” 

“Well when something you want feels out of your reach, you tend to think a lot about what it might be like.” 

Jaime knew what she meant but didn’t feel particularly compelled to explain how. His sister was a mood-killer of a subject. 

“Any other delightful daydreams you feel inclined to share?” he asked instead. 

“Maybe, but I think perhaps it should keep to another time. I don’t want to be late to the meeting.”

“Very well, but I intend to hold you to it.” 

*~*

A small time later, Brienne found herself walking towards the council chambers alone, somewhat lost in thought. As she approached, she noticed Tyrion waiting outside the door, with an expression that told her he was waiting for her. 

“My Lord.”

“Ser Brienne. They are setting up inside, but we are still waiting on most of the Starks and Ser Davos. In the meantime, I wondered if I might have a few moments?”

“Of course.”

Brienne followed Tyrion’s lead as he slowly moved about ten paces from the door. 

“As I suspected, the Queen is quite set on leaving tomorrow for King’s Landing, and I don’t believe she’s to be persuaded otherwise. Getting the troops in order and ready to head out in the morning will be no small task and we will likely need all the hands we can get.” 

“I understand. Jaime and I are quite happy to help.” 

“Well, I’m sure there are other things you would be happier to do, but you should have time enough for that once we are gone.”

“Yes, true.”

“If I may be so bold, there’s something I feel it is important to impart to you about my brother before I leave, and I am not sure there will come a better opportunity.”

Brienne nodded, and Tyrion took a deep breath and began what almost sounded like a prepared speech. 

“My brother loves you. Any idiot could see it from ten miles away. And I don’t believe he would ever do anything to deliberately hurt you. But I still feel I owe you this warning – his attachment to Cersei is not something I believe he is capable of just surrendering through will alone.”

Brienne felt her stomach turn over at this pronouncement. Tyrion pressed on. 

“He is well aware of what she is, and he understands she cannot be allowed to remain on the Iron Throne. But while she is alive, he will likely always feel...certain obligations to her. Fortunately, her immanent death is all but certain at this point. With any luck at all, this whole conversation will end up being for naught. But I feel I should prepare you, it is not entirely impossible that he may do something horribly foolish at the eleventh hour in a last gasp of irrational sentiment.” 

Brienne had held Tyrion’s gaze for as long as she could but at the mention of that particular possibility, she had to look away. Even out of the corner of her eye, she could see how sympathetic he seemed. 

“I say this because I have been there, and it hurts abominably. My brother has always loved me. He was the one person in my family who ever truly warm or kind to me. And often he would try to defend me against the worst of Cersei’s animus. But at the end of the day, if it was me or her, he would almost always choose her. And it did not mean that he did not love me. It just meant that...my sister has more power to corrupt and manipulate people than any other person I’ve ever met. And she’s been honing her craft on our brother since we were children. Which isn’t an excuse, frankly. He should have grown beyond it by now. They are both partially to blame, at this point.”

Brienne could hear the frustration in Tyrion’s tone, mixed with his sincere affection for his brother. She waited as he seemed to struggle with what to say next.

“You know my brother very well by now. In some ways, you may know him better than me or even our sister. He is a very flawed man with a good heart and a good soul. You bring out those things in him, more than anyone I’ve ever seen. But while you feed the best parts of him, she feeds the worst, and given how much longer she’s been doing that, it is frankly a miracle you even stand a fighting chance against her. And you do. If anyone could overcome his insane, irrational, diseased attachment to her, it is you. But I would be remiss if I did not tell you, the battle’s not yet won. While Cersei draws breath, Jaime is vulnerable to being brought back to her side.”

Brienne had a lifetime of practice at suppressing emotion and it was a good thing, too. Otherwise it was quite possible she might have started to tear up right before a war council meeting. As it was, she brought all her considerable practice to bear and simply inclined her head towards Tyrion, with a slightly shaky “Thank you, My Lord. Hard as that was to hear, you were not wrong to say it.” 

Tyrion then looked at her with such sympathy Brienne felt her resolve inch closer to crumbling. When he spoke, his voice was horribly tender. 

“For what it is worth to you, I am not a praying man. But ever since I saw my brother Knight you here at Winterfell two evenings ago, I have been praying to anyone who might listen – the lord of light, the old gods, the new – that he keeps you in his heart most of all. It is the only hope he has at any true happiness in this life.” 

Brienne was saved momentarily from responding by the sound of the bells striking three. The meeting would commence soon. 

“Thank you, My Lord. I pray your prayers are not wasted.”

“As do I. After all, I would hate to see that niece or nephew of mine that you are no doubt already carrying end up a bastard when this is all said and done.”

Tyrion’s newly flippant tone told Brienne he was trying to cheer her up. And he was not entirely off the mark she realized, as she smiled in spite of herself while Bran, Sansa, and Arya made their way towards the council chambers. 

“Thank you again Lord Tyrion.”

She smiled a bittersweet smile at him. He took her hand in his and briefly squeezed it before letting go and walking into the council chambers. She followed in his wake.


	8. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime are left to some unpleasant thoughts as they help the army prepare to leave Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit all over the place, but it got where it needed to go in the end. :) The next few chapters will probably also be slow to come due to personal reasons (I have people staying with me for the next month on vacation, so I will have less free time than normal) But I PROMISE it will keep going. I'm still really enjoying writing it and I am determined to give them a good ending.

As she left the council chambers, Brienne decided to put Tyrion’s words out of her head temporarily while they dealt with the issue of getting the army ready to move. Returning to her room she was relieved to find Jaime dressed and picking at the remaining food on the breakfast tray from earlier. 

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“The army rides south in the morning. We have both been given formal leave to stay at Winterfell. But they do need our help making preparations.” 

“Yes, I thought they might. You should eat something first, though. Breakfast was hours ago, and it is not as if we have been conserving energy.” 

Brienne glanced at the remaining scraps of food and realized Jaime had a point. She plopped herself down and began to eat rather unceremoniously directly off the tray. She was discomforted by his thoughtfulness in the wake of what Tyrion had said to her not an hour ago. 

Although she had told herself she wasn’t going to think about it, she could already sense an uncomfortable distance between herself and Jaime that had not be present when she had left the room. For the first time since he had started undressing them last night, Brienne felt an awkwardness towards him that she was not sure how to contend with. 

He must have sensed it too because, soon enough, he asked, “Is something wrong?” 

Brienne shook her head a little too emphatically, and said, “No,” in a tone even she did not find particularly believable. She had never been a particularly skillful liar. 

Jaime gave her a look that told her exactly how convincing he had found her reply. 

Brienne sighed and made an expression of defeat. She could see trying to deceive him was a losing strategy, but she was also dead set against talking about it at such an inopportune moment. 

“Very well. I do have something on my mind. But now is not the moment to discuss it.”

“Did I do something?”

The question stumped Brienne. 

“Not exactly, no.”

“But it concerns...this.” 

He made a gesture indicating the two of them. 

“Yes. But as I said, now is really not the moment.”

“Fine but promise me you’ll tell me when it is.”

“I – yes I promise.” 

A mildly uncomfortable silence filled the room as Brienne continued to wolf down stray bits of bread and meat, avoiding Jaime’s eyeline. She hoped he might be able to proffer a comfortable conversation topic and his years of good breeding came through eventually.

“So, what do you plan to do at Winterfell after the army and Queen’s party have left?”

“Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure. Though I did have one thought. The North’s armies will no doubt incur casualties in this battle. It might be a good idea begin training the next batch of young men from the North who will become part of the territory’s reserve forces.” 

“Not the young women?”

Brienne met Jaime’s eyes. She could see the sparkle of amusement that he had caught her out in her own hypocrisy. However, she could also tell his question had not been mockery of any kind, and she was warmed by this. 

“I guess if they want to, there’s no reason not to let them.” 

“Who knows, maybe you will be the first in a long and distinguished line of female knights.” 

“I don’t think the world would be worse for it.”

“Neither do I. Truth be told, I wonder if...”

Jaime stopped himself abruptly, and while Brienne was not totally sure where he had been going with this, the shape of his sudden silence looked a lot like his sister. 

He waved his good hand dismissively and shook his head giving her the same look she had likely come into the room wearing a few moments ago. Brienne marveled that Cersei was over 1000 miles away, and she still had the power to keep them at a distance like this. It was infuriating, and it left Brienne wondering if her shadow would ever leave the two of them be, even in death. 

She suddenly found herself hoping for a particularly arduous task to occupy herself this afternoon. She could only hope it would drown out the voices in her own head. 

*~*

A short time later Brienne found herself hauling sacks of potatoes and oats from the food stores and loading them into carts. It was exhausting work, and precisely the type of distraction she craved. 

Jaime had been commandeered to oversee the large weapon transport logistics. He had a great deal of experience coordinating military operations at a high level and was not much hindered in the task by his missing hand. 

Brienne was grateful for the time apart. She needed to clear her head. 

Jaime, on the other hand, was growing more anxious the longer he spent away from her. When Brienne was right in front of him, it felt so blissfully easy to know what the honorable thing was, and to do it. The power she had to give him moral clarity was part of what made him feel awed of her. In her absence, that sense of clarity became frighteningly frail. 

And his job was not exactly helping. Much as he tried to focus on the menial parts of the task, he could not escape the thought that every weapon he prepared for transport might be the one to ultimately kill Cersei and their child. 

Jaime harbored no illusions that this would end for his sister any way other than bloody. While he had firmly come to terms with the fact that Cersei could not be allowed to remain in power, he also knew, down to his bones, that she would not cede power while she remained alive. She was beyond reason when it came to preserving her place on that throne and it was going to get her killed. 

However, he also reviled being a part of it, even in a manner as small and banal as this. Knowing it would be good for the world to have her gone, he still could not make himself want or relish it. 

Indeed, sad as he would be to see his brother go tomorrow, he anticipated enormous relief at having the armies intended to kill Cersei gone from sight and mind. Jaime no longer loved her romantically or desired her sexually. That part of him died the day he left King’s Landing for Winterfell. But she was still his sister, still a Lannister, and still a person he had cared about his whole life. That feeling was planted much deeper in his heart and was not as readily ripped out. 

It was all made worse by the fact that Jaime had aided in Cersei’s rise to power in a number of ways. He was partially responsible for all this, and yet she would be the only one to face the true consequences of it. The one thought that ameliorated some of his guilt was the understanding that if it had not been him helping her, it would have been someone else. 

Jaime was not naïve enough to believe that without him, Cersei would have been helpless, or significantly hindered in her quest for power. He had been a good foot solider in her crusade, but he had always been replaceable to her, ultimately. Loving her the way he had, he had lied to himself about it for a long time. But that final conversation they had shared before he had left King’s Landing had rid him of that delusion once and for all. 

Aside from her children, Cersei didn’t love anyone nearly as much as she loved herself, and she didn’t love anything as much as she loved power. Jaime knew, if it came down to it, she would sacrifice him for her crown, every time. And while he very well may have been the stupidest Lannister, even he wasn’t stupid enough to pretend otherwise any longer. 

Still, the thought did not hold much comfort to him as continued prepping the sling-shot canons destined to put holes in the Red Keep. 

*~*

Unlike the previous evening, dinner was a subdued affair. Exhaustion from the day’s preparations and the awareness that the morrow would be full of hard good-byes left the great hall of Winterfell filled with a sober hum, rather than the rowdy energy of the night before. 

Not literally sober, of course. Wine still flowed freely, but it was put to the task of easing sorrows rather than toasting victories. 

Brienne, Jaime, and Tyrion found themselves supping together at the same table they had the night before. Pod was conspicuously absent which Brienne and Tyrion each had the same inkling about.

“I don’t know what it is about him that gives him such an easy way with women,” Brienne remarked to her two dinner companions. 

“I do. But I’m not sure we’ve had enough wine yet to justify that conversation over dinner.”

Jaime’s eyebrows seemed poised to disappear into his hair-line as he remarked, “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you hold back such a story on a count of propriety. Are you ill?”

“No, I’m practicing. If everything goes according to plan, holding back for the sake of propriety is going to be a big part of my life henceforth.” 

“Yes, it always did surprise me you had a knack for diplomacy,” Jaime commented. “You used to pride yourself on saying inappropriate things in front of father’s dinner guests.” 

“Well, more than half the fun of it was embarrassing father. A good amount of the appeal died with him.” 

Tyrion may have avoided reminding everyone exactly how Tywin Lannister had died, but the absence of the words did not mitigate the thought. And tomorrow, he was off to help kill another Lannister. Much as he had meant it when he had told Cersei his goal was not to destroy their family, Tyrion could not help but admit her perception was justified. However, he preferred to think of it as amputating a rotting limb – horrible, painful, but necessary to preserve what was healthy enough to endure. 

“Speaking of father,” Tyrion continued swiftly, “what do you suppose we ought to do about Casterly Rock?” 

Jaime shrugged and looked away. He had been avoiding the question, even in his own mind. He was the eldest son, heir to the Lannister title and lands, and would be expected to continue his family lineage there having left the King’s Guard. However, he had never particularly liked Casterly Rock and the place was now filled with so many... _ambivalent_ memories. He did not know how he would tolerate the ghosts of his father and sister haunting him in every room, hallway, and courtyard. 

“I know I should return, set up house and such. But I don’t remember the place with much more fondness than you. Maybe there is some cousin or other we can hand it off to...”

Silence descended for a long moment before Tyrion replied, “Well, in any event, we don’t need to decide tonight. They’ll be time enough for that once it’s all over. Now, if you’ll excuse me momentarily, my bladder is about to burst. Don’t say anything interesting while I am gone.” 

Brienne was smiling ruefully into her goblet as Tyrion made his way toward one of the exits and Jaime could not hold back from asking, “What?”

“It’s just ironic. Any other noble family, the two of you would be plotting to get the titles and lands out from under each other. And the both of you are treating it like it is a rotten apple you want desperately to be rid of.”

“Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a father whose legacy they actually want to continue.”

“A legacy can be remade.” 

Jaime had not known how much he needed to hear that until she said it. Both of them could still feel a thin layer of distance between them left over from earlier, but that one sentence from Brienne eased it considerably. 

“Yes, true.” 

He met her eyes, smiled, and her return smile tugged at his heart such that Jaime had to remind himself he would have tomorrow with her, and the next day, and many after that, at the very least. It was the only thought that rid his chest of the precarious feeling that it might cave in. 

He really did love her. It should not have surprised him to discover that, but it did. 

Jaime gazed at her in the candlelight, taking in the minute details of her hairline, her eyebrows, the crinkles around her eyes as she smiled at him. He must have gotten lost in looking because eventually her expression shifted to one of confusion, and she asked him, “What?” 

Jaime broke his gaze, shook his head and said ruefully, “Nothing. I just...I will tell you later.” 

“Promise?”

“I swear it.” 

She smiled and seemed contented. Then it was her turn to consider him thoughtfully.

“What?”

“I think perhaps I ought to leave you and your brother to yourselves this evening. It will be a good long while before you see him again and we will have plenty of time together once he is gone. You shouldn’t waste this opportunity.”

Jaime had been weighing that same thought since they had sat down to dinner together, and with her words of encouragement, he could feel it was the right choice. He felt a twinge of disappointment in his cock, but he knew plenty of other opportunities were close on the horizon for that. 

Opportunities to drink and talk with his brother were about to become very scarce indeed. And while Tyrion would not be _in_ the battle for King’s Landing, assuming all went according to plan, what he was leaving for tomorrow was certainly not without serious risks. Even his brother’s impressive streak of narrow escapes from death likely had limits. Jaime did not want to tempt fate by being cavalier about it. 

With that thought in mind, he brought his good hand up and squeezed hers as he gave a simple, “Thank you.” 

Brienne rose from her seat as she saw Tyrion making his way back to their table from across the hall. As he approached, Brienne bent over where she stood, gave Jaime a short kiss, then straightened up again to address the much shorter man. 

“Lord Tyrion, if you’ll excuse me. I think I shall leave you and your brother to yourselves tonight.” 

“While I would have hated to ask, your generosity is much appreciated, My Lady,” Tyrion said magnanimously. 

“Try not to get too drunk,” Brienne said to both of them, a bit of a smile in her tone. 

“I cannot promise anything, My Lady,” Tryion replied, retrieving his goblet and raising it to her. 

She simply smiled more widely, bent over again to give Jaime one more brief kiss, and then took her leave. She could feel the shocked gaze of a good number of people in the hall after her very public display of affection and for once, their stares filled her with a glorious sense of satisfaction. Maybe even the tiniest bit smugness too, if she was being wholly honest. 

She wondered just how long she would be able to hold onto to that feeling.


	9. The Thing Even Rich Men Beg For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Tyrion have a heart-to-heart, but are interrupted part way through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of this you will recognize from the show. However, things will diverge from here, so set your expectations accordingly.

“I’ll get the mugs, you get another pitcher of wine, and then hopefully we can find a place better suited to gossiping like a pair of ladies’ maids into the night.” 

Jaime smiled at his brother and felt another ache in his chest at the realization that they would, indeed, be parted tomorrow for a good long while. Nobody could make him laugh like Tyrion. And few people made him feel more like himself. 

Jaime retrieved a fresh pitcher from one of the roving serving girls and was just about to follow his brother out of the hall when he noticed Tormund a few tables over, staring at him intently. He would not have described the man’s gaze as aggressive so much as resentful. Jaime broke their eye-contact quickly and increased his pace, in no mood to contend with the Wildling’s odd stories or annoying jealousy. However, he could feel the other man continuing to watch him as he and Tyrion made their way out of the hall. 

Jaime fervently hoped the Wildlings would take their leave of Winterfell soon. With the Queen’s party and the armies about, there was a real crowd about in which it was possible to lose oneself...and other people. Starting tomorrow it would be much harder to keep his path from crossing Tormund’s, should the other man choose to stick around. 

However, Jaime decided that was a tomorrow problem, and not a big enough one to let it ruin his evening with his brother. They took refuge from the cold inside the mill just on the edge of Winterfell’s parameter. No doubt it bustled during the day, but at night it was abandoned save for the cats guarding the food stores, and the occasional rat that kept the cats on their toes. It was perfect for a quiet heart-to-heart. 

Despite himself, Jaime could not refrain from asking about the planned attack on King’s Landing in more detail. Tyrion gave him a brief rundown but quickly put a stop to Jaime’s follow-up questions about tactics and strategy. 

“I will be forced to have this same conversation at least a dozen more times before we arrive at that wretched place. Please don’t ruin my one night of reprieve with more talk of war.”

“Fair enough. What would you prefer to discuss?”

Tyrion gave him a rather knowing look, and Jaime felt himself blush slightly. He should have known there was only one thing of interest to Tyrion right now.

“So, she’s going to stay here with you.” 

“She’s sworn to protect the Stark girl, so...” 

Jaime did not know why, but he felt the need to downplay how much Brienne’s choice may have been influenced by his presence at Winterfell. Tyrion simply nodded, seeming thoughtful, but Jaime was sure it was prelude to some snarky jab, and soon enough, he found himself inviting it. 

“Say something snide.” 

Yet Tyrion seemed utterly in earnest as he replied, “I’m happy. I’m happy that you’re happy.” 

Jaime took in his brother’s words and was more moved them than he would have expected. However, Tyrion did not wait too long before returning to his signature patter. 

“I’m happy that you’ll finally have to climb for it.” 

Jaime could not stop the laughter that bubbled out of him. 

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to tell tall person jokes?” Tyrion asked, his voice practically giddy. “To climbing mountains.”

He put up his mug, and Jaime acquiesced immediately, still quite amused. 

“To climbing mountains.” 

They each took a good long sip, and then his brother pivoted to full imp. 

“What’s she like down there?”

Had Jaime not swallowed all of his wine, he might have spit part of it out. 

“What?! That’s not your concern.” 

Tyrion sighed, and he seemed sincerely bereft as he pled his case. 

“I haven’t been with a woman for years, give me a morsel.” 

“You’re a dog!”

“I am the imp and I demand to know!”

Jaime had only a second to register surprise that Tyrion would call himself that – given how much he had resented it in the past – before an unexpected interruption put it out of his mind. 

“I knew you were fucking her.” 

Jaime likely would have had a very different reaction to such a self-assured declaration from Bronn – or anyone really – had the man not been holding a loaded crossbow. Tyrion seemed unperturbed by their impromptu guest, but Jaime was instantly on his guard. 

“Pair of tall blonde tuffs. Must be like looking in the mirror.” 

“Ser Bronn of the Blackwater,” Tyrion replied, before Jaime had a chance to say anything. “Where’s your drink? What are you...what are you doing up North?”

“What are doing with that?” Jaime asked. 

The situation was feeling more tense to him by the second. 

“Oh this, this is for you,” he replied, aiming it casually in Jaime’s direction. “For both of you.” 

He took a seat across from them, still holding the bow up in a ready position. Jaime had an inkling what this was about but decided he would wait to hear more before he fully assumed that level of betrayal. 

“You boys are a pair of gold-plated cunts, do you know that?”

“That’s a bit rude,” Tyrion replied, again in a tone that felt a bit too casual to Jaime, given the situation. 

“Year after year I’ve shoveled Lannister shit. And what do I have to show?”

“You’re a knight thanks to me.” 

“Thanks to me. And that title is worth as much as a blonde hair from your brother’s ballsack.” 

“Power resides where men believe—”

“Shut your mouth!” 

“I’m just trying to—”

“I’ve never hit a dwarf before, but say another word, and I will belt you.” 

Jaime remained quiet during this back-and-forth, knowing the two of them had a long and mildly affectionate history on which to draw. However, after Tyrion voiced his skepticism that Bronn would actually do him any violence, the armed man did not hesitate before whacking the smaller man square in the face. 

Jaime felt himself stand up before his brain even gave a serious thought to his lack of a weapon. 

Bronn rose with him and warned, “You couldn’t do it on your best day, you one-handed fuck, and your best days are long gone.” 

Bronn sat back down but kept the bow pointed at Jaime as Tyrion interjected, blood streaming down his face, “You broke my nose.” 

“I did not break your nose.” 

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been breaking people’s noses since I was your size and I know what it sounds like. Now, listen. Your sister offered me Riverrun. Nice big castle, plenty of lands, lots of peasants who do what they’re told.”

Jaime felt his stomach drop despite the fact that he had suspected this almost as soon as he had seen Bronn brandishing that crossbow. Of course she was behind this. Of course she was. She had flat out said to him _Nobody walks away from me._ And if there was one thing his sister did not do, it was make empty threats.

“You trust Cersei?” Jaime asked, incredulous that a man like Bronn would be taken in by her. 

“I knew your sister was dead the second I saw those dragons. Now, your army may be torn to shit, but I’d still bet on your Dragon Queen to win. And it just so happens, I’m a betting man.”

Bronn helped himself to Tyrion’s goblet as he continued.

“If Cersei’s dead, she can’t pay up. Hmm, that’s good. Of course, the odds change if the Dragon Queen’s Hand turns up dead. Maybe a few of her top generals picked off one by one. All of a sudden...”

Bronn gestured as if to say _the odds get a bit more even._

All Jaime could do was stare resentfully, but Tyrion, ever the diplomat, decided to wade in once again. 

“May I speak?”

“Why not? Only death will shut you up.” 

“We made a deal long ago, do you remember?”

“If anybody offered me money to kill you, you’d pay double. What’s double Riverrun?”

“Highgarden. You could be Lord of the Reach.” 

Jaime was not entirely sure what possessed him to say it, but somehow, the thought of a man like Bronn being lord of Highgarden gnawed at him in a way he could not let slide. 

“Highgarden. Are you mad?” he asked Tyrion. 

“It’s better than being dead.” 

“He’s not going to kill us. He wouldn’t be talking –”

It turned out, Jaime’s first instincts on Bronn’s appearance had been correct after all. As he spoke, the other man shifted the bow and shot it without so much as a flicker of hesitation on his face. 

The arrow landed inches from Jaime’s face against a near-by wooden beam, and he stared at it, a newfound fear swimming in his stomach. Maybe they truly were in mortal danger from this toad of a man. 

“The way I see it, I only need one of the Lannister brothers alive.” 

“Highgarden will never belong to a cutthroat.” 

Jaime was once again shocked to hear the words coming out of his mouth. Not an hour ago at dinner, he had been balking at the thought of inheriting his own family’s titles and lands, and now he was defending the integrity of some other family’s land and holdings that he had never given two shits about before. 

He could feel Tyrion looking at him and Jaime avoided his gaze, unable to justify this irrational defensiveness, even to himself. 

“Oh yeah, who were your ancestors? The ones who made your family rich? Fancy lads in silk? They were fucking cutthroats. That’s how all the great houses started, isn’t it? With a hard bastard who was good at killing people. Kill a few hundred people they make you a lord. Kill a few thousand, they make you King. And then, all your cock-sucking grandsons can ruin the family with their cock-sucking ways.” 

Bronn paused to take a drink before he continued. 

“Highgarden. Give me your word.”

“You have my word,” Tyrion acquiesced before shifting into full diplomat mode once again. 

“Of course, none of this means a thing until we take King’s Landing. We ride south in the morning. We could use an officer with knowledge of the city’s defenses.” 

“Oh no,” Bronn responded with a small chuckle as he finally cottoned on. “My fighting days are done. But I still got a few killing days left, you hear me? I’ll come find you when the war is done. Till then, don’t die.” 

Jaime watched the man slink out and he could feel the anger still seething in his face. He was mad Bronn had wormed his way into a promise of Highgarden. He was mad Bronn had threatened his life and shot an arrow in his general direction. He was mad Bronn had given his brother a bloody nose. And he was particularly mad that Cersei had done this to him. 

Nothing about their parting justified paid assassination. 

At the time of his departure, Jaime had challenged Cersei to order him killed, and she had backed down. Through only just. It had been a closer call than Jaime wanted to remember. It was part of the reason he had felt justified in leaving her. 

But this was a bridge much further. Not only had she attempted to have him murdered in an unsuspecting attack – giving him no reasonable opportunity to defend himself – she had also done it in cold blood. 

It was one thing to make threats in the heat of an impassioned argument when tempers are flaring. It was quite another to wait until the dust settled, and there was ample time to see things clearly, and then put a price on his head. It was cold, even for her. 

And it left Jaime feeling blissfully unburdened of much of the guilt he had come to Winterfell baring. He had known it was the right thing to leave her when he did. If given the chance to do it over, he would have made the same choice. But that did not mean the way they had left things had not weighed on his mind and heart. 

With Bronn’s unwelcome tidings, that weight virtually disappeared. Jaime still wondered and worried about the child. But his obligations to Cersei felt nonexistent, possibly for the first time in his living memory. It felt just a little bit sad, and immensely freeing. 

“She must hate me almost as much as she hates you now,” Jaime found himself saying. 

“It is an unfortunate club to be in, make no mistake. But all other things being equal, I think her wanting to kill you still constitutes a better sibling relationship than the one you previously had.” 

“I don’t know if I’d go quite that far, but your point is well-taken.” 

Jaime looked at Tyrion to assess the damage fully. The blood had mostly stopped flowing, and now it was drying on his face. 

“You should go get some snow to put against the wound. I’m sure it will feel better.” 

Tyrion waved his hand as if to say it was not worth it to him, and then took a big swig of wine as he stared into the fire. 

The two men sat in silent contemplation while the fire crackled and the wind whistled outside. Both seemed rather lost in their respective thoughts until Tyrion stumbled onto a question from earlier that he did not have an opportunity to ask. 

“What was that whole business about Highgarden? Since when do you give any shits about maintaining noble house linages?”

“I...” Jaime wished he had an answer for Tyrion, but he was as confused about it now as he had been the first time around. “I truly don’t know.” 

Jaime met his brothers’ eyes then looked away and took a sizable swallow of wine. 

“You almost sounded like father.” 

It had been an off-handed comment, but the moment Tyrion said it, the room grew tense. At these unthinking words, Jaime suddenly knew why he had said those things to Bronn, as did Tyrion. 

The men shared a knowing look that made Jaime blush once again, and let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. 

Tyrion’s eyes fixed him with an intense but still amused expression as he asked, “So does that mean you want Casterly Rock after all, so you can leave it to your cock-sucking grandsons one day?” 

Jaime sighed heavily, and looked up at the ceiling as if answers might fall from above. But they did not, and he was forced to muddle through his conflicted feelings alone. 

“I don’t know. I guess the idea has some appeal to me now that...But how can I go back to that place and just pretend the memories there won’t haunt me every day of my life?” 

“New memories can hold the old ones at bay...or so I’m told. Plus, drinking to excess is always an option.” 

“I am not sure drinking can be a long-term life strategy.” 

“Am I not proof enough for you?”

“If anything, you are proof of the opposite.” 

“Don’t be mean, or maybe I will put a price on your head as well.” 

“A bit soon to be making jokes about that, is it not?” 

“It’s never too soon to make a joke about something awful.” 

“How did you ever become Hand of the Queen?” 

“My good looks.” 

Jaime laughed, and Tyrion soon followed. They laughed in excess of the joke, letting every piece of tension from the evening evaporate into the chilly evening air. 

When they finally quieted once more, Tyrion poured himself another generous helping of wine, took a sip, and then became quite somber as he said, “You know, none of us – you, me, Cersei – was ever much good at choosing what was good for us. You coming to Winterfell for the Lady of Tarth may be the first time any of us ever truly did right by ourselves.” 

“I wouldn’t say I came for her, exactly,” Jaime replied before he could stop himself. 

It was like a strange, lingering reflex – denying his feelings for Brienne even when they were already laid bare for everyone to see. 

Tyrion only reply was an exaggerated, skeptical look.

“Fine. It was mostly for her. Mostly.” 

“My point is this: you have been gifted something even wealthy men must beg for. Do understand how precious it is for the thing you most desire to be the thing that also does you the most good? Do you understand how rare and wonderful that is?” 

It was Tyrion’s pleading tone, as much as his words, that held Jaime rapt. He had never thought about it precisely in those terms, but as Tyrion said it, he realized his brother was speaking truth. 

In response Jaime nodded and assured him, without words, that his point had landed. 

“If you waste this chance you have, I will find it very hard to forgive you brother. And I have forgiven you a lot.” 

Jaime could hear the pain behind Tyrion’s words and he let himself marinate in it long after he had nodded his acknowledgement. 

The two men continued to talk into the night, leaving the heavier things for another time. However, Jaime carried Tyrion’s words with him when they finally parted for the evening and he made his way to the one place he most wanted to be – Brienne’s bed. 

As he suspected she was already fast asleep when he entered. He put another few logs on the dying fire and then disrobed clumsily before he got into bed with her. He thought about taking her in his arms, but he decided he should not wake her for his own selfish reasons. So instead, he lay as close as he could get, facing her and watching her sleep, marveling at what he had in front of him – the thing even rich men beg for.


	10. Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne say a few farewells, some fonder than others.

Before exiting the great hall, Brienne managed to swipe a fresh pitcher of wine to keep her company in Jaime’s absence. She knew they still had goblets left over from last night in their room. 

_Their_ room. Such an odd thought. 

She was well into her second goblet when she heard a knock at her door. Feeling a strong sense of déjà vu, Brienne rose and moved to find out who it was. The face that greeted her caused a similar amount of surprise to Jaime’s the night prior, but a far less pleasant one. 

She sighed heavily, rolled her eyes and asked, “May I help you?” 

“I saw the Kingslayer leave the hall with the Imp. Figured you might be in need of someone to drink with.”

As he said this, Tormund raised the goblet and pitcher he was holding. 

“Thank you but I am just fine drinking alone.”

Brienne made a move to close the door on the red-haired Wildling but he put his hand out and stopped her. Normally she would have simply forced it shut, but due to recent events, she was feeling less discomforted by Tormund’s attentions, unwanted though they still were. 

“Fine, you don’t want to drink with me. I came here because we Wildlings are leaving tomorrow, and I have something I want to say to you before I go.”

He was almost pleading and despite everything, Brienne felt the smallest twinge of sympathy for him. What harm could it do to hear him out? Though she still had no intention of letting him in her room, Brienne let go of the door and crossed her arms in a waiting stance. 

“I just wanted to say, I know you are with the Kingslayer for now...” 

“Ser Jaime,” Brienne corrected him. 

“But if he ever leaves you, know that I would travel half way around the world just to share your bed. Say the word, and I would follow you to the gates of hell and back. You are everything I have ever dreamed to love in a woman, and I hope he appreciates you even half as much as I would. As much as I do.” 

Brienne did not find his sentiments surprising. He had made them abundantly clear to her before now. But she was surprised he was capable of expressing himself in a manner so...civilized. He must not be very far into his drinking tonight. 

She nodded and replied, “Thank you for the kind words. They are...flattering.” 

She had a hard time making eye contact with him as she said this. She really did not want to give him the wrong impression, but she had also been on the receiving end of enough mean-spirited rejections that she could not simply be rude to him about it. He may have been a pest, but his sentiments were sincere, and noble in a way. She had to respect that. 

“But as you know, I _am_ with Ser Jaime and I hope to be for some time to come.”

“I am not a stupid man. I know what you see in him. I know he is beautiful, and rich, and one of your lot. But that’s exactly why he is not good for you.”

“None of that is why I am with Ser Jaime. It is because we have been through more together than I care to recount, and he has always been good to me, even in circumstances that should have made us enemies. What he and I have been through, the things we have faced together...that is why we are what we are to one another.” 

“I’ve never been down South, but I’ve heard enough to know a man like him probably wants some small, fancy lady for his bride. Not a woman like you. He may have been through hell with you, but that doesn’t mean you are heaven to him. You would be, to someone like me. Remember that Ser Lady.”

Brienne nodded curtly and closed the door, more than ready to be done with that conversation. Tormund let her this time, and the moment she felt the latch click, she went back to her chair and poured herself another generous helping of wine. 

She put back at least three big gulps before she let herself think through what Tormund had said to her. He unnerved her in a way no one had before, not even Jaime. She knew Jaime cared deeply for her, and even desired her. But as she had flat out said to Tormund, Jaime’s feelings for her had been forged in harshest of circumstances. 

Had life and the world been different when they met, he likely would have dismissed her out of hand, the way most men of his background and breeding had her whole life. And in truth, being dismissed by him would probably have been the _best_ of all realistic outcomes. The odds that Jaime would have ever come to feel any kind of benign affection for her, let alone love or desire, had the stars not aligned _exactly_ as they had...it was laughable, and she knew it. 

For all of Tormund’s faults, for all his inelegance and crudeness and lack of hygiene, she could not imagine that his feelings for her were some kind of cosmic fluke. Tormund’s romantic interest in her had not required the one-on-one, life-or-death, spilling-the-darkest-secrets-of-your-soul intimacy Jaime had needed to overcome his initial disgust of her. 

As she mulled these thoughts over, trying to parse which man’s affections for her were more genuine – the one who wanted her because he’d been through hell with her, or the one who wanted her without having to go through hell with her – it occurred to Brienne that perhaps drinking alone had not been the best idea, after all. 

This was confusing enough for a clear-headed person, and at the moment, she could not claim to be anything of the kind. She soon decided sleep was the only immediate solution and took herself to bed. Despite her unsettled thoughts, the wine and the events of the day helped her drift off almost immediately. Some problems could wait until the morning. 

~*~

 

Brienne awoke to Jaime by her side. He remained fast asleep despite the hustle and bustle of the castle around them as the army prepared to take its leave. She had no idea what hour he got back in last night, but she was sure it was very late, and under the influence of far too much wine. 

Deciding she should let him sleep a bit longer, Brienne arose, made swift use of her chamber pot, built the fire back up from the embers, splashed some cold water on her face, and dressed herself. She debated just leaving quietly and letting Jaime sleep, but she figured he would want to say a final goodbye to his brother. 

Brienne leaned over the bed and shook him lightly. He soon jolted awake, made a groggy noise, and rubbed his eyes furiously until they were finally able to focus on her face. He smiled then and reached up to touch the short lock of hair that had fallen in her face. 

“I like your hair like that,” he muttered, and she could tell from his voice he was most certainly hung-over, and perhaps still a bit drunk. 

His statement about her looks brought her half-forgotten conversation with Tormund rushing back to her. While her musings on that issue were far from resolved, now was not the moment to think about it. There would be more than enough opportunity in the coming days and weeks. 

“I’ll take that under advisement. You should rise – the Queen and her armies will likely be leaving soon.” 

“Mmkay” he said before pushing himself up slowly and then attempting to stand. He managed a second of being upright before his legs buckled and he ended up back on the bed in a sitting position. Which Brienne considered progress, at least. 

“You need water” she said as she moved to pour him a large goblet full and then delivered it to him as he massaged his temples with his good hand. 

“I don’t know how my brother drinks like that all the time. Bet you anything he’s no worse for wear this morning.” 

“To be honest, I think that speaks better of you than of him.” 

“I’m glad you see it that way.”

Jaime took a few long sips in quick succession before handing the goblet back to Brienne and hoisting himself up once again. This time he remained standing. 

“Would you mind?” he asked, pointing to the balled-up pair of trousers on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

Brienne bent over, picked them up and helped him into them, feeling a twinge of anticipation for when they would once again be on her floor. However, even if a farewell were not in immediate order, she doubted he was capable of making love at the moment. He would likely need a good meal and a few hours, at least, before he was in any state for that. 

At least there would be ample time to hear about his night of drinking. Must have been quite raucous indeed. 

Soon after they made their way about the grounds, looking for the Hand of the Queen and eventually happened upon him on the battlements. He was in conversation with the Lady of Winterfell, and both Brienne and Jaime realized, just a moment too late, that they inadvertently interrupted something of significance. 

The instant their footsteps could be heard, both Tyrion and Sansa turned and looked at them with flustered, concerned expressions. 

The group quickly exchanged formal greetings before Jaime said, “I apologize Lady Sansa, have we interrupted something important?”

“No Ser Jaime. Lord Tyrion and I were just saying farewell. God’s speed My Lord, to you and the Queen’s forces. I will be praying for a Targaryen victory. I hope you will keep us abreast of any significant developments.” 

“Absolutely. I will see to it personally. Thank you again for your impeccable hospitality My Lady. I hope this will be the beginning of a new era of peace between the North and the kingdoms to the south.”

“As do I,” Sansa replied, and her words seemed to carry a double-meaning only intended for Tyrion. 

Sansa then nodded to the group and retreated swiftly. 

“I assume we are not meant to know what the two of you were discussing just a moment ago,” Jaime said to his brother with casual resignation in his voice. 

“Good assumption. How is your head this morning? You look awful.”

“I feel it, too. I swear, I will never understand how you can hold that much drink.” 

“I’ve told you, it’s a gift.” 

“When are you heading out?” 

“Very soon. After Lady Sansa, you were my last goodbye.” 

“We should probably get to it then,” Jaime replied, kneeling down to hug his brother. 

“I hope you still remember what I said to you last night” Tyrion whisper in his ear as they embraced. 

Jaime let out a tiny laugh and rose to full height once again. 

“I do. Please take care of yourself. I don’t know how many more narrow escapes from death you have left.” 

“I’ll do my best. Especially since I hope to attend my brother’s wedding before too long.” 

The fluster that overtook both Jaime and Brienne at Tyrion’s words was immediate and palpable. Their eyes met briefly and then they quickly looked away from one another, blushing and laughing nervously. 

“I sorely need to take my leave before the two of you give me a toothache, sweet as you are. It’s stomach-churning.” 

Jaime smiled at his brother’s flippant words, but he could not let them stand without another earnest warning. 

“Seriously, be careful. Don’t die.” 

“With advisory skills as honed as that, _you_ could be Hand of the Queen.” 

“Don’t be a jackass.” 

“It’s another gift. You know that.” 

This time Jaime simply looked at his brother expectantly before Tyrion conceded, “Fine. I promise I will be careful.” 

“Thank you,” Jaime replied. 

“Ser Brienne, I do hope you will look after my brother while I am gone and keep him out of trouble.” 

“I will try, My Lord. And I will pray for a quick victory for Queen Daenerys and her forces.” 

“Thank you. I should start heading down to gates. Walk with me?” 

Jaime stood to the side and indicated Tyrion should lead the way. This he did as he continued his musings. 

“I expect the Lady of Winterfell will keep us abreast of any significant political or military developments in the North during our journey. But I do hope you will keep me informed of any _other_ developments that might arise while we are on our way.” 

“I promise,” Jaime responded, and from his tone both Brienne and Tyrion could tell Jaime had taken the intended meaning. 

“Excellent. It is important to have things to look forward to in life. Better days hopefully lay ahead for most of us. It would be a shame not to make the most of them.” 

“Well, I can’t wait to hear more about how you plan to make the most of them once the Queen takes the Iron Throne.”

“Alas, if all goes according to plan, I shall be advising her majesty on the goings-on of the Kingdom. I shall have to live vicariously through those better placed to enjoy the spoils of peace.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of spoils to take advantage of, should you choose to.” 

“Perhaps, but we shall have to save our speculation on that for a later date,” Tyrion observed as stopped under the archway of the main gate. 

“I’m afraid this is my final farewell until we all meet again.”

“Farewell, My Lord,” Brienne said, a great deal of warmth in her voice. 

“Until next time,” Jaime said. 

He bent down and gave his brother another quick, strong hug before returning to Brienne’s side. 

Tyrion turned away from them and took a few steps toward the carriage of the royal party before spinning back around to say, as he continued walking backward, “By the way, if another Lannister is not at least on the way by the time we see each other next, I shall be sorely disappointed in both of you.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Jaime replied, more amusement in his voice than anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to be back posting! I've had a lot of summer vacation stuff in the past few weeks that left little time for recreational writing. But I should be back to posting on a pretty regular schedule for the foreseeable future. I'm very excited to continue this fic. Also thank you for your lovely comments, they are always so wonderful to read. :)


	11. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne catch up on their night apart, in more ways than one.

Jaime waited until Tyrion entered the royal carriage before musing, “I will miss my brother, but I can’t say I’ll miss his lack of subtlety or discretion.”

“Yes, what is that all about?”

Jaime turned to walk back into the heart of the keep and Brienne followed. 

“Part of it is just his enjoyment at other people’s discomfort. But he also seems to have given up on the idea of a marriage or children for himself. And I am his most proximate substitute. Shall we get some breakfast?” 

“Yes, I am quite hungry actually.” 

They made their way toward the great hall as Brienne pressed on about Tyrion.

“Why do you suppose he’s given up on those things?”

“It’s a rather long story – and I’m not even sure I know all of it – but the short answer is someone broke his heart. I don’t think he trusts that not to happen again. Plus, he’s rightly wary of all the scheming social climbers in King’s Landing, particularly given his position. He takes it quite seriously.” 

They entered the great hall and found it bustling. With the armies and the Wildings on their way, the rest of the castle seemed to have had the same notion as Jaime and Brienne. They found an open pair of seats and began loading up empty plates from the platters of food along the center of the table. A serving girl brought them hot tea, and they began eating as they continued to talk. 

“It’s funny,” Jaime mused. “It used to be Tyrion would shirk any duties he had to get drunk and bed women. Granted he still drinks more than he should, but he seems to have traded the women for the work. I never would have thought it had I not seen it with my own eyes.” 

“Is this what you talked with him about last night?”

“A little. Though we were a bit preoccupied by Ser Bronn of the Blackwater coming to collect on a deal he made with Tyrion many moons ago – in exchange for not killing us.” 

“What?! Why on earth was he trying to kill you two?”

Jaime gave Brienne a look that said the name silently. 

“Cersei?”

Jaime nodded.

“She apparently offered him Riverrun in exchange for our heads.” 

“And what did Tyrion offer him instead?”

“Highgarden.” 

“I...don’t really know what to say. Other than I’m grateful you’re not dead.” 

“That makes two of us.”

“We should tell Lady Sansa. I am sure she would want to be informed of an intruder sent to murder guests of Winterfell.” 

“Agreed, but I think it can wait until after breakfast.” 

“Speaking of Sansa, what do you suppose she and Tyrion were discussing earlier?”

“I truly have no idea. Part of me wants to know and part of me suspects I’m better off not knowing.” 

“Yes, I rather got that impression as well.” 

They chewed in silence for a long moment before Brienne continued. 

“Do you suppose they were discussing something...personal?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, I know they were married before and I’ve gotten the sense that something of that relationship perhaps lingers. She’s always spoken quite highly of him. And given her family’s history with your family, it always struck me as curious.” 

Jaime was not surprised to hear Brienne say this, for he harbored a similar suspicion, particularly since Tyrion had confided that she was one of only a handful of women he truly trusted. 

“They do seem to have a bond of some significance.” 

Jaime paused for a moment and pondered as he ate. 

“On the other hand, she is still quite a bit younger than him. And I don’t get the sense she has exactly forgiven our family for what happened to her family, or to her. Which I understand.” 

“It’s just, yesterday she asked me...”

Brienne trailed off and then waved her hand dismissively. 

“What?”

“I should not have brought it up. She asked me something yesterday of quite a sensitive nature and it would be dishonorable of me to share it, even with you. But from what she said, I get the sense that marriage is on her mind.”

“It should be. Other than Danearys, whom I suspect already has a husband in mind, she is probably the most eligible woman in the whole Seven Kingdoms. And quite a beauty at that.” 

Brienne knew her reaction to Jaime’s off-hand remark was irrational, but his mentioning another woman’s beauty made her twitch involuntarily and let out a harsh breath. 

“By the way, you’ll never guess who came knocking at my door last night.” 

Jaime looked nonplussed for a moment before realization marched across his face. 

“Tormund came to see you last night?”

“He noticed you left supper with Tyrion and apparently felt the need to offer himself up to me in your place.” 

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did you take him up on the offer?”

Jaime’s face was suddenly raptly attentive, and Brienne could tell that some small piece of him actually feared she might have. The opportunity to taunt him was simply too good to abandon. 

Keeping his rapt eye-contact, she replied, in an undertone, “Supposing I did, what would you do?”

“Be very sad and quite angry at him. And probably a little desperate to outshine him.” 

Brienne could not stop the smile that spread across her entire face at this response, nor could she suppress the warmth rising in her cheeks. Their gaze remained unbroken for a long, silent moment as they allowed the tension to simply marinate. 

Finally, Jaime could stand it no more. 

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

~*~

Jaime shoved the door shut with at least double the strength necessary and then grabbed her head with almost as much vigor and brought it down to his. He had not been lying about the desperation Brienne mused as he kissed her aggressively. 

She pulled off his coat first, followed by her own cloak. 

They each toed off their own boots and then discarded clothing all the way to the bed. 

Fully free of her garments, Brienne sat down and then reclined to lie flat with her legs hanging off the side. Jaime climbed over her, his knees on the far side of both her hips as he balanced on his right arm and let his left hand stroke her breasts. 

He kissed her deeply and then moved his mouth down to her neck to nibble at the soft flesh under her ear. She started to make beautiful breathy sounds at the back of her throat, which made Jaime’s solid erection twitch visibly in response. 

As her hips became more restless, Jaime moved his hand down between her thighs and stroked the slick, swollen flesh he found there. He still was not accustomed to just how wet she got and every time he touched her like this, he felt the exquisite thrill of it anew. Even her desire was pure. 

Brienne let his touch linger for quite some time, but she eventually intuited he was deliberately holding back from finishing. 

Grabbing his head, she held it inches from hers and asked, “What are you waiting for?”

“For you to tell me what happened with Tormund.” 

Brienne let out an impatient incredulous laugh. 

“You really think one night without you and I’d let Tormund into my bed?” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

As Jaime said this, he moved the tips of his fingers across the sensitive nub above her opening – a deliberate tease. She shivered in response and then grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly flipped their bodies so he was on his back with her kneeling above him. 

Jaime’s look of shocked disorientation lasted only a couple of seconds before his face broke out in a very wide smile. Brienne waited a beat before taking his cock, which was an angry shade of pink and laying rigid against his stomach, and slowly guided it inside her. 

Jaime’s eyes rolled back into his head as desperate, raw sounds emanated from his throat. Brienne moved her hips at a steady pace; not slow, but definitely holding back. Jaime endured this turn-about for as long as he could but eventually, he could endure it no more. 

Taking his good hand, he pressed it between their bodies and back to the place that made her quake. And quake she did, but she managed to pull his hand away just before she went over the precipice. Jaime had anticipated this move and was ready for it. He immediately twisted his hand around her wrist and pulled her whole body down flush against his. 

He curved his neck up to kiss her, and she let him. Keeping her hand his prisoner, he wrapped his other arm around her body, holding her close to him. She continued to move against him, grasping towards her release, and soon enough she found it as she clawed at the wolf skin pelt underneath them, on either side of his head. 

She went slack immediately, and Jaime was able to roll her over with no effort and put in a few final thrusts before he followed her into oblivion. 

Even drunk on pleasure, the two rolled away from each other almost immediately from the heat. Brienne did, indeed, keep her room very warm. They lay in a comfortable silence for a good long while, Brienne occasionally running her hand through Jaime’s hair. 

Eventually she broke the silence. 

“You know I would never share a bed with Tormund.”

“Do I know that?”

“I truly cannot tell whether you are in earnest right now, or not.” 

“Suppose I am in earnest.” 

“I would live a hundred celibate lives that lasted a hundred years each before I would lie with that man.” 

“Just a hundred?” 

“Can I expect this interrogation end at some point today?”

Jaime gave a small chuckle and abandoned his mildly facetious tone. 

“Apologies, we need speak no more of it.” 

He kissed her softly but she remained unmoved. 

“Why are you so bothered by him? Truly? He is no real threat to us, and I think you’ve always known that. So why do you keep harping on about him?” 

Jaime’s suddenly seemed to find the wolf-skin pelt beneath them quite fascinating. He gazed at it raptly as he picked at a seam that held two of the pieces together. 

After a moment he said under his breath, almost to himself, “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say what?”

“That I love you.” 

He met her eyes just before the words came out of his mouth, and his face did not match the casual tone of his words. 

“And that’s why he bothers me as much as he does.” 

He said it as if he were explaining to her a thing no more consequential than why he preferred wine to ale, or blue to white. He said it like it was just another fact of the world which had to be accommodated, like the turning of the tide or rising of the sun. He said it like it was an unremarkable truth, instead of a miraculous one. 

But most of all, _he said it._ And now, she needed to say something back...


	12. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne do a little soul-baring. Sansa makes an offer to Brienne, while Bran makes a suggestion to Jaime

Two warring responses battled in Brienne’s head, one a statement, the other a question. She did not want the question to win, but remembering her solitary musings from the night before, she knew it had to. 

“Why?”

Jaime’s face registered a surprise that seemed more sincere than strategic. 

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“I want to know why you...think you love me.” 

“Well, _now_ who is being interrogated?” Jaime asked, rising and getting himself a cup of water. 

Brienne could tell he was stalling, and it heightened the worst of her suspicions. However, she endured the silence and forced Jaime to break it. 

“Do you love me?” he asked. 

“I –” Brienne faltered, but decided the lie wasn’t worth it. “Yes, I do.” 

“Why?”

His tone was flippant, which is how Brienne knew this was difficult for him. Jaime’s way of dealing with serious things was often to talk about them as if they weren’t.

“Because you came back for me at Harrenhal when you had no earthly reason to. Because you threw yourself into that bear pit after me when you had no earthly reason to. Because you did right by our oath to Catelyn Stark, against what I know you felt was your better judgement. Because you have gifted me with beautiful things, again and again –”

“Never took you for the greedy type.” 

“That’s not what I mean! Two of them cost nothing. And one of them cost something dearer to you than money. But even after you lost your hand, you did not despise me or even resent me. You begged friendship of me. And since that day, whenever I have asked anything of consequence from you, you have granted it to me.”

Brienne took a breath and carried on. 

“I meant every word I said at your trial here at Winterfell. You are a man of honor, even when it is difficult. Which is what being a man of honor _is_. You are funny, and smart, and beautiful, and you...respect me for what I am. Is that enough reasons, or do you need more?”

“Do you _have_ more?” 

Jaime tried to sound glib, but the words caught in his throat as tears welled up in his eyes. They never fell, but they came closer than was comfortable for him. 

“You still haven’t answered my question when I have answered yours. Tell me why you love me, or I am going to go mad wondering.” 

“Who throws themselves in a bear pit for someone they don’t love? Who loses a hand for someone they don’t love? Who rides for a miserable month through the winter toward a literal battle with death, unless it is for someone they love?” 

Brienne rose from the bed and took Jaime’s face in her hands. 

“Accepting that you love me does not answer the question of _why_.”

Jaime gazed into her astonishingly blue eyes and tried to find an answer to this question that would satisfy. 

“Because you are twice the knight I could ever hope to be, and that’s all I’ve ever really hoped to be. Because you are strong and fierce and steadfast and loyal and brave and passionate and tender-hearted and good right down to your soul. Sometimes I marvel that you are even real. I know you think your looks are a curse, but I assure you, they are a gift. Had you been born a beauty, the gods would surely have slaughtered you in your crib out of jealousy.”

Unlike Jaime, Brienne let her tears flow as she kissed the man in front of her with every bit of tenderness she felt for him in that moment. 

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, her forehead pressed against his. 

“No, you deserve better.”

“There’s no such thing.” 

“Oh, ye of little faith.” 

Despite herself she laughed softly at his joke, even as she countered it with her eyes.

They returned to the bed where they kissed and fondled one another atop the fur coverlet. It was not passion that stirred them at that moment, but a deeper closeness that both wanted to savor. Time wiled itself away, and the two talked of this and that and nothing of consequence.

Eventually, however, Jaime recalled something Brienne had said in the heat of their love confessions that he had not understood. 

“Wait a minute, what was the other thing I gave you that cost nothing?” 

“What?”

“Before, when I accused you of being greedy, you said something about how two of the gifts I gave you cost nothing. One of them was your knighthood, I assume. What was the other?”

Brienne blushed and Jaime immediately had an inkling of the answer. Rather than affirm with words, she took Jaime’s good hand and brought it down to the juncture of her legs. He took the hint enthusiastically as she said exactly one word in his ear: “this.” 

Jaime stroked the embers of her fire until the heat was overwhelming, and then she pulled him fully atop her. His thrusts were slow and deep; Brienne kept him flush with her body her long arms wrapped around his shoulders as she kissed him emphatically. 

Eventually the closeness, the sensation of her wet and warm around his cock as she grasped his shoulders tightly and stroked his tongue with hers, made Jaime come undone. He tried to stop it; making her come first was a point of pride to him. But the pleasure she gave at that moment was too powerful. 

His body shook with his orgasm, and after just enough time to catch his breath, Jaime whispered, “Sorry.” 

Brienne almost rolled her eyes. 

“You’re allowed to come first sometimes.”

Jaime disengaged their bodies, and then bent his head to take her right nipple in his mouth as he moved his hand back to where it has started. 

Brienne threw her head back and let out a moan that wasn’t loud, but it was not soft either. Her hips rode his hand as she edged closer to a release, and as she was right on the precipice, Jaime lifted his head from her breast said what had been said before, because it bared repeating. 

“I love you, Brienne.” 

Her legs nearly crushed his hand against her pelvis as she found her release and let out a glorious sigh to go along with her convulsions. As she rode the downhill waves of her climax, Brienne went limp and looked at the man lying half next to her, half on top of her. 

He was gazing at her, a look in his eye that was equally admiring and possessive. She couldn’t exactly say she liked his jealous streak, but to be wanted alone was no small thing for a woman like her. To be wanted _and_ loved? 

It would never have occurred to Brienne to ask the gods for such an outrageous favor as all that. There were still moments when she was sure – despite all evidence to the contrary – that she would wake up and find this to be nothing more than an agonizing fever-dream. 

Yet as the days ticked by, that feeling was beginning to wither inside her. Brienne was unsure that it would ever wholly die, but feeling it shrink little by little was a pleasure all its own.

~*~ 

After a short midday meal enjoyed in their chambers, Brienne left it to find Sansa and inform her of Jaime’s unfortunate run-in the night prior. She invited Jaime to join her, but he refused on the grounds that he had something he wanted to investigate at Winterfell. 

He was a bit doggy when Brienne asked for details, but she trusted him enough to let it be. When he surprised her, it was usually for the better. 

Brienne found Lady Sansa in her chambers, hard at work on her needle point. She appeared to be working on a garment of some caliber. Brienne could not see exactly what type of garment it was, but it was made of a light, watery blue silk with rich golden threads weaving a complex pattern she could not quite discern. Perhaps something to wear during the next coronation or royal wedding. 

Both were likely immanent. 

“My Lady, may I speak with you a moment?”

As soon as Sansa heard Brienne’s voice she stopped her sewing and it almost seemed as if she was trying to hide the garment in the folds of her dress. 

“Lady Brienne, of course. What can I do for you?” 

“My Lady, I wanted to inform you of an incident that happened last night here at Winterfell. Lord Tyrion may have already told you, but he and Ser Jaime were attacked here last night by Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. Both of them escaped unscathed, obviously, but apparently Cersei has put a price on both their heads. Quite possibly others as well. Ser Bronn should no longer be a threat, as he was bought off by Lord Tyrion, but there may be other assassins about working for Queen Cersei. I felt it was our duty to let you know.” 

Sansa looked worried but not panicked as she nodded. 

“I will increase security around the castle, and ensure our guards know to be on the lookout for infiltrators. Thank you for keeping me informed, Lady Brienne.” 

After a brief pause, Sansa continued, “Or, if the castle gossip is to be believed, it is Ser Brienne now, is it not?” 

“It is, your Ladyship.” 

“According to my sources, Ser Jaime knighted you right before the Battle for Winterfell, in front of a whole gaggle of witnesses.” 

“I’m not sure it was a gaggle. A few of us were drinking away our fear for the battle yet to come, and it just happened amid all the reminiscing and storytelling.” 

“Well, I am glad. If anyone in the Seven Kingdom’s still deserves a knighthood after all that has happened, it is you.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” 

Brienne felt herself getting a bit choked up at Sansa’s words. 

“I assume you still have no formal plans to marry Ser Jaime of yet?”

“That is correct, My Lady. We are determined to wait out this final battle and likely regime-change before we start looking towards the future in earnest.” 

“I realize a million things could happen between now and then. I also realize Jaime’s brother will be residing in the Capitol, that his home is at Casterly Rock, and that your home and family are on Tarth. But I should be honored to host your wedding here, should it ever come to pass. Please don’t feel you must say yes or no right now. I just want you to know that offer stands, whatever you two decide.”

“Lady Sansa, you honor me with such an offer, and I hope to be able to take you up on it before too long.” 

“I am pleased to hear it. By the by, where is your prospective groom?” 

~*~ 

Jaime found the man he was looking for in the now-abandoned war room. Bran sat in his rolling chair staring at the strategy table as if he were looking right through it to something beyond. Jaime almost felt guilty for interrupting. 

“Lord Stark.” 

“Ser Jaime,” Bran replied in that far-away monotone that seemed to be the only vocal register he still possessed. 

“I hope I am not interrupting anything.” 

“Nothing of significance. What can I do for you?” 

“This may sound like a slightly odd request, but I wanted to inquire whether Winterfell has heated tubs anywhere on the premises. I figured you would know if it did.” 

“Yes and no. We have a pair of heated tub basins in the western wing, but they have not worked since my father was a small boy. Why?”

Jaime shook his head, not inclined to share his reasoning with the youngest Stark. 

“No real reason, I just enjoy them and was hoping to take advantage, if it happened to be on offer.” 

Although Bran had more or less forgiven Jaime for causing his fall, Jaime still carried a fair amount of guilt over it, which made asking for trivialities from him all the more awkward. 

“But never mind. I shall leave you to your...”

“I saw you with her in the tubs at Harrenhal.” 

Jaime blinked a few times, about to ask _how_ before he remembered Bran had some sort of gift of Sight. It was why the Night King had wanted him, why they had been able to lure him away and kill him during the Battle for Winterfell. 

Jaime remained grateful it had saved all their lives that night, but he still did not really understand it, or want to. Magic of any sort made him anxious. 

“Much of what has happened since was borne of that moment between you and her. A great deal more than you know.” 

“I believe you.” 

Bran paused briefly before continuing. 

“It is a good idea. Rebuilding the tubs, making them work again. You should take that on while you remain here at Winterfell, Ser Jaime. 

“I would be happy to, Lord Stark.” 

“Once it is done, I suspect it will deliver a great deal of joy to you...and everyone else here.” 

Not able to think of anything else to say, Jaime bowed, said “My Lord,” and left Bran to his scrying, or seeing, or whatever it was called when a person looked beyond the here and now.


	13. Servants of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gains an ally in his new endeavor at Winterfell; Brienne and Jaime contemplate the role of fate in their relationships.

Jaime had no experience refurbishing heated tubs, but he had an inkling of where he might start – the Winterfell library. It would presumably house any and all information available on the castle’s construction and maintenance. 

Jaime still did not know his exact way about the castle yet, but by now he was familiar enough with it that he could get himself to the general area of most things, and just poke around until he actually found it. Soon enough, he found himself inside the library where the maester of the castle was hard at work on something, as was the Tarly lad. 

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where I would find any documents relating to the construction of the castle?” Jaime asked the maester. 

“Why do you want to see them?” the grizzled man asked. 

“I have been charged by Lord Bran to work on a restoration project for the heated tubs in the western wing, which currently do not work.” 

The maester gave him a suspicious squint but eventually acquiesced. 

“Over there, the set of scrolls in the top right corner of the last shelf on your right.” 

“Thank you.” 

Jaime went to retrieve the scrolls and then brought them over to the table where Tarly was working. The man seemed much better company than the maester. 

“Don’t mind if I work here, do you?” Jaime asked, for the sake of politeness. 

Sam shook his head back and forth and gave a welcoming gesture as he replied, “No, not at all.” 

“Much obliged.” 

Jaime unfurled the scrolls and began paging through them looking for structures that resembled heated tubs. He eventually found what appeared to be the right set of documents, but his ability to understand them was limited at best, and he had never had much patience for this sort of thing. 

Craving a distraction from his own task, Jaime asked, “What are you working on?”

Sam laughed a bit nervously and replied, “Who, me? I’m just doing a bit of research on some medical stuff.” 

Jaime wondered why he sounded so guilty but a quick glance at the pages in front of Sam told him enough. He couldn’t read most of the words from where he was, but the anatomical image was unmistakable – pregnancy. 

“Who’s pregnant?” 

“Gilly, my um, my...” 

The boy’s struggle for a word made Jaime sympathetic, despite himself. 

“She’s the Wilding girl with the young boy, right? I’ve seen you two together quite a lot. Do you intend to marry her?”

“Well, I would like to, but I am still not a hundred percent sure I can. I was a man of the Night’s Watch, you see, before...”

“Before the Night’s Watch were wiped out.”

“Yes.” 

“And now you don’t know where you stand.”

“Exactly.”

“Well from what I gather, you curry a lot of favor with Jon Snow. And he seems to curry quite a bit of favor with the Queen. Assuming they are triumphant in their siege on King’s Landing, you likely will have a good hand to play, should you need it.”

Sam nodded, seeming persuaded by Jaime’s words. 

“Although truth be told, I’d be surprised if you need it. I suspect we’ve all seen the end of the Night’s Watch.” 

“I hope you are right. And not just for my sake. Guarding The Wall was important, but it was a miserable life. I think we can do better, particularly now that the White Walkers are gone.” 

Jaime nodded his agreement and the two men went back to their work for a time. Jaime was eventually able to puzzle out how much of the tub worked, in theory. However, given his lack of expertise, he felt it best to solicit an outside opinion. 

“If you aren’t too busy, would you mind taking a look at this with me? I think I understand the basic structure, but I would love an extra pair of eyes.” 

“Oh, sure!” Sam said, and he moved around the table to the same side as Jaime. 

The lad seemed to revel in the task. He clearly had a knack for jobs that required intellectual rigor. Likely he would end up a maester himself, if the political winds of the world blew in his favor. 

To Sam’s estimation, Jaime had read the plans more or less correctly, but he had been able to provide far more details about the minutia of the structure than Jaime had been able to glean from the drawings.

Grateful for the other man’s help, and fully aware he might be useful in the endeavor to actually make the tubs work again, Jaime said, “Thank you very much for your help, Samwell Tarly. Can I ask – will you be remaining at Winterfell for the foreseeable future?”

“Yes. We want to stay here where it is safe at least until the baby is born, and Gilly has recovered.” 

“Well, I don’t know what other tasks the Lord and Ladies of Winterfell might have lined up for you, but would you mind if I called upon your insight now and again while attending to this matter? I suspect I may need a bit of help here and there.” 

“Of course, Ser Jaime. I’d love to.” 

The lad really sounded like he meant it. 

“Thank you, I truly do appreciate it. I must be off, so I will let you get back to your work.” 

Jaime rolled up the scrolls, tucked them under his arm, and headed for the door. As he approached the exit he heard the maester yell at him, “We will expect to get those scrolls back from you, Ser Jaime.” 

Jaime promised to return them in pristine condition before exiting the library in search of Brienne.

~*~

He found her in the first place he looked – her room. Or perhaps, more accurately, their room. She appeared to be napping when Jaime entered, and as soon as he saw her, he felt guilty for how carelessly (and loudly) he had entered the room. He closed the door as softly as he could, but she still stirred and asked, “Where have you been?” 

“The library. I’ve been given an official assignment by the Lord of Winterfell.”

Brienne rose from the bed and walked over to table where Jaime had sat down both the scrolls and himself. 

“And what task is that?”

“I’m to help refurbish the castle’s heated tubs, which apparently have not worked since the days Ned Stark was a boy.” 

“Well, good luck with that,” Brienne replied, her tone and expression both declaring – in no uncertain terms – she was grateful the task had not been assigned to her. 

“Thank you. I am going to have help. The Tarly lad was in the library and he seemed quite keen when I asked him if he might lend a hand occasionally. He’s very congenial. Absolutely nothing like his father.” 

“And no doubt the world is much better for it.” 

“Probably.” 

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment before Brienne asked, “How did you end up charged with this task?” 

“I went to ask Brandon Stark if the castle had any heated tubs. I was curious. He told me that Winterfell’s were in disrepair and asked if I would help return them to functionality. I felt obliged to say yes. And frankly, it is a far cry better than many other things he could have asked of me.” 

“True.”

“He said ‘I suspect it will deliver a great deal of joy to you’ – made it sound like a bit of a prophecy.” 

“Yes, he often talks like that. You get used to it after a while.” 

They shared a knowing smile, and then Jaime leaned over and kissed her. 

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to be able to do that.” 

“Well, I have some inkling.” 

“Do you know how close I was to kissing you that day at Riverrun? I swear, if you had stayed two minutes longer in that tent, I probably would have.” 

An embarrassed smile spread across Brienne’s face immediately, and her cheeks pinked a bit as she looked away into the fire.

“What?” Jaime asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“Tell me.” 

“I just remember...that was exactly how it felt to me at that moment. After the fact, I convinced myself it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. But for a moment in that tent I remember being _terrified_ you might say something or do something that would...exceed mere friendship.” 

Jaime made a confused face. 

“Why were you terrified?”

Brienne gave him a look as if it was obvious and scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m truly not following,” Jaime replied, sincerity dripping from every word. 

Brienne’s cheeks grew even redder and she had a hard time making eye-contact with him as she replied, “Looking at you that day, I barely had the strength as it was to follow through on what I was charged with. Much as I am loath to admit it, had you acknowledged any deeper feelings for me, I’m not _entirely_ sure I would have had the strength to stay true to my oath to Sansa Stark.” 

Jaime felt her words like a slap across the face, or a punch to the stomach. It was shocking, disorienting, it made him feel physically winded. And also more flattered than he had even been in his entire life. 

Her confession of love earlier that day had been gratifying beyond measure, but Jaime knew instantly this confession trumped it. The notion that his affection for her could have broken – or even threatened – one of her steadfast oaths was an idea he would have thought laughable before this moment. 

Jaime was humble enough to admit that, had the question of her loyalties ever actually been tested in such a manner, the odds were still in favor of her putting her oath before their love. But it spoke volumes to him that the two things could have ever even stood in competition in her mind, that the priority of her oath could have even been brought into _doubt_ , however fleeting. 

That said more to him than a hundred love poems ever could. 

Jaime reached out to cup her guilt-ridden face as he assured her, “You would have had the strength. I’m sure of it.”

“I’d like to think so. But I still look back on that moment and wonder about it sometimes.”

Both Brienne and Jaime found themselves floating backwards on the river of time, thinking over their interlocking past and the choices they each made that lead up to where they now sat. Again, Bran’s words echoed in Jaime’s head. 

“Do you believe in fate?” Jaime asked Brienne. 

Brienne took on an enigmatic expression. 

“I didn’t used to. Now, I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

“Something else Brandon Stark said to me when I went to see him. After I asked him about the tubs at Winterfell, he confided in me that he had seen our shared moment in the tubs at Harrenhal. He said, _Much of what has happened since was borne of that moment between you and her. A great deal more than you know._ ”

Brienne looked unsettled by this.

“Sometimes I feel a great deal of regret over the things I did for Cersei, how long I stayed loyal to her...how long I denied my feelings for you. But then I wonder if it was all for the better in the end.” 

“I can’t say I particularly like the idea of fate, generally speaking. But if it ultimately brings good things, I guess we should not regret being its servants.” 

“And then I wonder, now that the White Walkers are done for, is fate done with me? Or are my choices still of just as much consequence? And are they my own when they were not before? _Were_ they mine before?”

“I’m not sure that asking those kinds of questions will make things any clearer or easier.” 

“Probably not, but I can’t help it. I just hate the thought that...”

“What?” 

Jaime took a big breath and tried to hold Brienne’s eyes, but faltered, and gazed at the table instead. 

“I hate the thought that I might be asked by fate to again sacrifice loving you to do its bidding.” 

Brienne tried to think of something that would soothe him, but she could find no words that sufficed, so she took his head in her hands and kissed him instead. 

“I hate that thought too. But if fate is at work in this, I don’t know that there’s any help for it.”

“I don’t know whether that is comforting or not.” 

“In truth, neither do I.” 

Jaime kissed her softly, and then passionately, and then lead her back to their bed. Maybe fate would take him away from her, or take her away from him. But in the meantime, he would make the most of what fate had given him today and hope that not all of fate’s callings demanded sacrifice.


	14. Expertise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets the baths at Winterfell working and Brienne makes a discovery.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. Brienne and Podrick spent their days training the North’s reserve forces, while Jaime went about fixing the heated tubs of Winterfell on the request of its Lord. 

He discovered fairly quickly what had happened to them. The tubs had a complex set of pumps and pipes to heat the water as it moved into the basins and to evacuate it effectively once used. Whoever was responsible for the disrepair had apparently failed to open the final release valve in the evacuation pipe, and the water inside it had frozen solid in the midst of a winter. 

Because the pipes were primarily underground, summer’s warmth was not enough to melt the ice that blocked the pipe. It had to be attended to by hand. 

Once Jaime diagnosed the problem, his first job was to pry open the final release valve door, which turned out to be no small feat. It was rusted shut and it took two of Brienne’s recruits the better part of two days to loosen the fastenings. Once that was done, Jaime employed a number of tactics on the advice of Samwell Tarly. 

They started by chipping and melting away at what they could reach on both ends of the pipe. But the hole was the width of a man’s forearm, and not big enough to climb into to get at the largest chunk still stuck in the middle. 

They considered using torches to conduct heat along the pipe, but Tarly was fairly certain, given the frozen land surrounding the length of the pipe, that they would not be able to make it hot enough to reach the center mass of ice. 

Eventually they settled on a strategy that felt a bit absurd to Jaime, but Tarly was fairly certain it would work. They would use battering rams on the exit end of the pipe in the hope that the reverberation would cause the ice to crack. Then they would fill the tub basins with hot water, and flush it through the cracks in the ice, which would hopefully melt it enough to evacuate the pipe. 

As this process unfolded over the weeks, Jaime and Brienne fell into an easy routine. They would typically take their breakfast together and share their plans for the day. Jaime often had a few helpful bits of advice for Brienne who, despite her formidable fighting skills, was new to training soldiers en masse. Then they would go their separate ways, put in a solid day’s work, and sup together in the great hall. Sometimes Podrick would join them, sometimes not, depending on whether he was in the midst of a new romance, or just coming off one. Jaime and Brienne would then retire together to get a bit tipsy and make love. 

And as much as they relished it, both felt increasingly with each passing day that they were living on borrowed time. They had received word from Tyrion a little over a fortnight after his departure from Winterfell to say that the Queen’s forces were making good time. They expected the siege to begin in another fortnight, assuming the wind stayed with them. 

Jaime and Brienne were both fairly certain the Targaryen forces would prevail. The question would be at what cost, and how many innocent people Cersei would take down with her, because the gods knew, she would not go quietly. 

The closer the battle drew, the more Jaime threw himself into his work, hoping the distraction would keep his mind off the affairs in King’s Landing. Finally came the day when they felt confident the ice was broken up enough to move, and they filled up the heated tubs with steaming water, and then drained them. 

At first it was touch and go from the inside, but eventually all the water in the basins successfully drained, which meant the ice had been evacuated. Jaime felt a strange thrill at his success. It was not the sort of thing he had been trained to do, nor had this task necessarily played to his strengths. Yet it was a success all the same – maybe not as triumphant or glorious as winning a battle or a jousting tourney, but satisfying nonetheless. 

Over the next few days, Jaime oversaw the general tidying and clean-up of the basins which had filled up with dirt, bugs, and a variety of small dead things in the fifty-ish years it had been out of use. 

Finally, a little over three weeks after he had begun the project, Jaime presented the functioning tubs to the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. Sansa seemed quite pleased, while Bran seemed calmly satisfied, which Jaime supposed was about as close to pleased as he ever got these days. 

While Jaime was quite anxious to use the baths, a great many others in Winterfell were eager to as well, and he let them at their leisure while he awaited the return of his paramour. Brienne had left the day before the tubs became functional to go on a four-day, three-night exercise in the woods with her battalion-in-training. The recruits were learning to set up camp and fend for themselves in the wilderness. 

Jaime was determined to hold out for her return. To use the tubs without her, particularly the first time around, felt almost like a betrayal of sorts. And while he knew that sentiment was ridiculous, and that Brienne would not actually care, he cared. So, he waited. 

~*~

She and her band of recruits returned to Winterfell two days hence at dusk. He could tell the moment he laid eyes on her that she was well, but bone tired. As she dismounted her horse, just inside the castle gates, Jaime gave her a quick peck and immediately took hold of her saddle bag with his good hand. 

“Thank you,” she said, and he could almost see the exhaustion radiating off her. 

“Let’s get you out of that armor and then we’ll see about supper.”

Brienne smiled and nodded, and Jaime led the way. 

Back in their room, he helped her get her armor off, and then gave her a quick wipe-down bath from the warmed bucket of water he had left by the fire in anticipation of her arrival. He had assumed she would be in no state for a full bath tonight, and indeed, she seemed grateful for the respite from the rest of the castle, and the people in it. 

Brienne lounged in front of the fire in her dressing gown, while Jaime sent for two suppers to be brought to their room. He then took it upon himself to massage Brienne’s neck, shoulders, and back with his one good hand. He knew exactly what extended horse-riding did to one’s body, particularly when it was not part of a daily routine. 

The noises Brienne made as Jaime worked her muscles were verging on sexual, and he was almost grateful when they were interrupted by the knock at the door announcing their supper. He doubted she would be up for having sex tonight, tired as she was, and he preferred not to get himself into a state only to be disappointed. 

The servant brought the tray in, left it on their table and took his leave as they divvied up the two hearty bowls of rabbit stew and wheat rolls. Brienne began eating the moment the bowl was in front of her and Jaime found her desperate hunger a little endearing. No doubt she had not eaten a proper meal the entire time they had been gone. He watched her with a smile and poured her a glass of wine, before serving himself one and sitting down to his own meal. 

They ate in silence at first, as Brienne made up for four days of food salvaged from the woods. However, eventually she was satiated enough to speak and eat at the same time. “So, tell me what’s been happening here since I left. Are the tubs back in use yet?”

Jaime nodded, and told Brienne about his success as she continued to wolf down her food at an impressive pace. By the time she was done, she looked almost radiant – clean, warm, well-fed, flushed from her wine. She almost seemed to be glowing. 

As soon as he finished his anecdote, Brienne replied, “Well, I am looking forward to taking advantage of your work. You give a decent massage for a one-handed man, but I’m afraid nothing beats a good hot bath to soothe sore muscles.”

“True,” Jaime replied, ruefully. 

He found himself fighting off the image of her in one of those baths, with her cheeks rosy and her skin gleaming, clean and dripping wet. He was desperately trying to avoid getting aroused. A task Brienne made all the more difficult a moment later by asking, “Come lie with me. I know you probably aren’t tired yet, but I need to lie down in a real bed and I’ve missed you.”

Jaime could not tell whether she was suggesting sex or a mere affectionate embrace, but he was more than happy to oblige either one. He let her get into bed as he made up the fire, and then he followed suit. 

They lay face to face in silence while Brienne stroked the hair on Jaime’s face. She loved the feeling of his beard against her skin. 

“I missed you,” Jaime said to her, in a voice just above a whisper. 

“I missed you too,” she replied, and she smiled at him that smile made of sunlight. 

Then he watched her drift to sleep in the space of a few heartbeats. 

~*~

The next morning, Jaime awoke to the sound of her retching. It was barely dawn, but she was up in her dressing gown, making unfortunate use of her chamber pot as she vomited emphatically. Jaime felt bad for her but was not surprised. Food cooked by soldiers in training had greater than even odds of giving one the vomits or the shits. Or both. 

He rose and poured her a large mug of fresh water, handing it to her the moment she seemed capable of being fully upright. 

“Thank you,” she said, after chugging more than half of it in one go. 

“You should lie back down,” he said. 

She nodded, still looking a bit green in face, and crawled under the covers as Jaime put the used, reeking chamber pot out into the corridor. If she kept smelling it, she was likely to vomit even more. 

“Gods, I thought this was done.”

“What do you mean?”

“I woke up yesterday in the same condition. I assumed it bad food from the camp. I thought it had all left me yesterday, but apparently not.” 

“Can I get you anything?”

“No. I think I just need to rest a bit more. However, I would appreciate if you would speak to Sansa on my behalf. I was planning to give her a full report on the battalion’s training and progress this morning, but I think I will need a few more hours to recover.” 

“Of course. Are you sure I can’t bring you anything back?”

“Maybe some bread and mint tea.” 

Jaime nodded and left to find Sansa and inform her of Brienne’s condition. 

He found her in the great hall breakfasting with her brother, Sam, Gilly, and the boy they called “Little Sam.” Sansa seemed to like playing with the young lad, Jaime had noticed. 

He greeted the group, and then said to Sansa, “My Lady, Brienne is anxious to give you an update on the training of the battalion, but she has taken a bit ill this morning and likely won’t be in a fit state to give you a full report until the early afternoon. She does beg your forgiveness.” 

Sansa’s worried look told him his – albeit perfunctory – apology on Brienne’s behalf was unnecessary. 

“Of course, she may take as long as she requires to recover. What is it that ails her?” 

“Likely some bad food eaten at the camp. She woke up yesterday and today vomiting. That type of reaction is not an uncommon outcome of such excursions, unfortunately.” 

As he said this, he noticed Gilly turn her head towards him and take an interest where she had not before. A bit odd, Jaime thought to himself as he continued. 

“I am bringing her some mint tea and bread to calm her stomach.” 

“Well, thank you for keeping us informed, Ser Jaime. And please tell Ser Brienne to take all the time she needs to recover. There is no hurry.” 

“I will send along that message. Thank you, My Lady. My Lord.”

Jaime inclined his head towards the two Starks, smiled at Sam, and turned toward the door. About halfway there he stopped one of the servants, asked them to bring Brienne’s requested breakfast to their chambers, along with a few extra things for himself. He could handle something a little heartier. 

Brienne was still feeling nauseated when Jaime returned to their room, but she seemed at least to be improving. Her face no longer looked green, just a bit peaky. He took her mind off it by asking her how the training had gone. Brienne had plenty to tell. 

Much as she bemoaned the ignorance of the recruits and their complete dirth of skills, Jaime could tell she had made significant progress with them and that she seemed to enjoy her role in training them. It pleased him to see her satisfied in her work. 

He still hoped she would want to take leave of the North once the political situation stabilized, but either way, it was so easy to imagine this cadence of life continuing into perpetuity, like a strong but calm heartbeat. 

Just as Brienne finished giving Jaime her report, their breakfast arrived. Jaime filled up on cured ham, bread and fruit, but Brienne was not yet able to put anything solid into her body. The tea, however, she gulped down as fast as the near-boiling water would allow. 

“Perhaps you should go see the maester.” 

Brienne weighed that option and appeared hesitant. 

“He always seems so busy and preoccupied. I’m not sure this is worth bothering him over.” 

“Then maybe go and talk to the Tarly lad. He’s quite learned, and on the way to becoming a maester himself. And he’s very eager to help. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person so eager to be friendly.”

“Perhaps I’ll give it another hour and if I’m still not able to keep any food down, I’ll see if he has any recommendations.”

Brienne’s hour came and went, and food was still disagreeing with her, so she set off to heed Jaime’s advice. But she decided to provide Sansa with her promised report first, and the Lady of Winterfell was gracious in every way possible – both about Brienne’s work and her condition. She all but insisted Brienne leaving the training to the other knights and soldiers at Winterfell today, while she put in some time for recovery. 

Brienne agreed without too much hesitation and then took her leave to track down Tarly in the castle library. He was hard at work on something or other, with a stack of books on either side of him. Gilly was there as well, playing with her son by the fire. 

The moment Brienne found them, Sam said, “Ser Brienne, the maester left to see to something for Lord Stark, but he should be back within the hour.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I might speak with you. I find the maester here a bit...off-putting and I know you are somewhat learned in the art of sickness and healing.”

“I mean, I’m not fully trained or anything but I’m happy to try and help, if I can.” 

Jaime had not lied about his eagerness to be of service.

“Thank you. Honestly, it is probably nothing, but as you know I went out for a training exercise with the battalion a few days ago, and the last two mornings I’ve woken up feeling dreadfully ill. The most likely explanation is bad food consumed at the camp, but it seems a bit different from normal food-sickness.” 

“How so?”

“Well, mainly in that I only feel this way in the morning. When the afternoon arrives, I am famished again, and I feel fine. Furthermore, I did not notice any of the other recruits at the camp being sick. Maybe a few were and I just managed to miss it, but usually when one person gets food sickness in a camp, a large number of people do.”

Sam nodded along with Brienne’s assessment. 

“You are right that is a fairly unusual manifestation of food sickness. Are there any foods that regularly give you trouble that you might have eaten a bit too much of?” 

“No, none that I am aware of.” 

Sam went on questioning Brienne, seemingly testing different theories before Gilly spoke up out of the blue. 

“Pardon me, Sir Brienne. This might be a bit forward but, when was the last time you had your monthly?”

Brienne blinked and thought. She knew it was before the Battle for Winterfell. She remembered it had ended just a few days before Jaime had arrived. That had to have been roughly five weeks ago. 

“More than a month. Before the Battle for Winterfell.” 

“Have you noticed any extra soreness in your breasts?” 

Brienne blushed slightly but replied, “Yes. I assumed it was just because of my armor being a bit too tight.” 

“I don’t want to alarm you, but from the sounds of it, you might be with child. A lot of women when they are carrying get what we call ‘the morning sickness.’ I’ve been lucky enough not to have it with this one” – she rubbed her protruding stomach. “But I had it something fierce with Little Sam. It usually starts about one month in.” 

Brienne heard everything Gilly said, but as if from across a very long distance. There was a ringing in her ears and a flutter in her chest made of equal parts joy and fear. Although it was still early, and although her symptoms could still be a product of other forces, Brienne felt in her bones that it was true – she was carrying a child by Jaime. 

Her head spun and all the questions that now needed answers came crashing down on her – Was there any way to confirm it, beyond these early, ambiguous symptoms? Should she tell Jaime yet, or wait until she was surer? She should ask the maester to inspect her, or was it too early for him to make a fruitful assessment? What about their tentative plans to marry? Should they still wait until the Dragon Queen successfully conquered King’s Landing? Or was that of any consequence now? 

“Ser Brienne, are you alright?” Sam asked, his voice barely piercing her reverie. 

“I, yes, I am sorry, I’m just a bit out of sorts. I think I need some air.” 

Brienne rose, and then said, “Thank you both for your help. Truly. I would appreciate it if you would keep this to yourselves for the time being, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Sam said immediately, his earnestness unfaltering. 

“Thank you. I need a bit of time with this information before I—we figure out what is next.” 

“We understand. You can count on both of us to be the soul of discretion.” 

“I appreciate it, truly. Gilly – if it is not too much bother, I may call upon you for a bit guidance, should it turn out that I am indeed...pregnant. I am not well versed in these matters, and you seem to have some expertise that could be of help to me. Would you mind?”

“Not at all, very happy to help,” she replied, an endearing shine in her eyes. She seemed to like it when Brienne said she had ‘expertise.’ 

“Thank you both again. I really do need to a bit of air, if you’ll excuse me.” 

Brienne hastened to the door, and once on the other side, her feet carried her of their own accord along the corridors, through the battlements, down the stairs, through the front gates and to the godswood, where she felt compelled to take refuge under the heart tree there. 

The cold air was soothing on her face and it even seemed to be helping with the nausea, which had dissipated further, but was not yet completely gone. 

Brienne soon felt herself pacing, as more questions swirled around in her head. She still was not sure how definitively she should be treating this diagnosis, and it made the effort to make other decisions more difficult. On the one hand, she felt intuitively sure it was true. On the other hand, she desperately _wanted_ it to be true, which made her doubt her feelings. 

However, her largest concern at the moment was not actually whether or not it was true, but whether or not to tell Jaime of her suspicion. She did not want to give him false hope, or mislead him unwittingly, but she also was a terrible liar, particularly to people she was close to. He had gotten quite good at reading her moods, and he would know something was weighing on her mind the moment he saw her again. 

As Brienne took in the chilly air in large gulps and continued to pace, she eventually concluded telling him was the only course of action. She would make very clear it was just a suspicion, and impress upon him that it was far from confirmed at this point. But she could not kid herself that keeping this from him for any length of time was a viable option. She could maybe hold out for a few hours, but that was it. 

With that decision made, Brienne made her way more leisurely back to the castle realizing, as she entered its gates, just how famished she felt as the bells tolled for the midday hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for the lovely, encouraging comments! This fic is now on the 'downhill' side. I'm anticipating another 6-8 chapters roughly. Expect another very fluffy very sexy chapter at Winterfell to come, and then our heroes will be headed for some turmoil. But this fic is tagged 'happy ending' and I plan to stick to it. :)


	15. Joy and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tells Jaime her secret.

Brienne found Jaime in the great hall having lunch, and she eagerly joined him, doing her best to suppress her joy. She knew exactly how she was going to tell him, if only she could manage to pull it off. 

The moment she sat down opposite him, and began loading up her plate, he said, “You are looking much better. I take it Tarly was able to help.” 

Brienne nodded as she took a large bite of chicken. 

“Yes, I am much better now.” 

“Was it food sickness?” 

“No, something else. But you don’t need to be concerned for me. It will clear itself up on its own after a little while.” 

Jaime still looked mildly concerned, but decided not to press the issue, for which Brienne was grateful. Even though she had a good reason to keep this under wraps, and even though there was no harm in misleading him for all of a day, she did not like lying to him. 

“I’ll take your word for it. Well, considering you likely won’t be bed-ridden for the afternoon, how would you like to spend the day? Neither of us has anything to see to at the moment.”

“I am not exactly sure. But I am hoping we might be able to get the tubs to ourselves this evening after dinner. I am anxious to make use of your fine work.” 

Jaime smiled at her and she could see exactly what he was thinking. She was glad they were on the same page. 

They used the afternoon to take care of some odd tasks – Brienne’s armor needed tending to after her excursion in the woods left several dents in various plates. Jaime wanted to find out if there had been any more ravens from his brother. 

The siege was due to start any day now, and he expected they should get some word about it soon enough. However, the maester informed him there had been no ravens from anyone in the Queen’s party. He also took the opportunity to remind Jaime that the scrolls he had borrowed from the castle library were still due for return. 

Jaime immediately went to retrieve them and when he returned them to the library, he got the first vaguely pleasant interaction with the old man he had yet managed. Northerners were a gruff people, and slow to trust. But Jaime could tell his time there had started to make a dent. 

And although he still hoped to settle somewhere warmer, when all of this was said and done, to feel even the grudging camaraderie of a people so hell-bent on disliking him at first was its own kind of warmth. 

A brief time later, Brienne and Jaime decided to take supper together in their chambers rather than the great hall. It was a night for intimacy and they each felt it without having to say it to one another. When they finished their Shepard’s pie and sweet apple tarts, Jaime rose and said, “Shall we?” 

Brienne could not suppress the smile the spread across her face. She had lost count of how many times they had made love weeks ago. Yet he still had the power to make her blush when he looked at her the way he was right now and used that tone of voice. 

“Yes, but I want to change into my dressing gown. I think it will be a bit easier.” 

She quickly changed while Jaime built up the fire in anticipation of their absence, and then they made their way to the tubs in the western wing. As was typical, there was a guard posted outside to ensure the privacy of bathers. 

“Is it occupied?” Jaime asked. 

“No, Ser Jaime. The Lord of Winterfell specifically requested I not allow use of the tubs to anyone except you and Ser Brienne this night.” 

Brienne and Jaime looked at each other in surprise, but it was not hard to figure out what had happened. Bran had his _Sight_ after all. However, it occurred to Brienne it was awfully thoughtful of him to use it on their behalf for something as relatively unimportant as this. 

They entered to find a bath already drawn, with steam rising up from the surface, and the echoes of their mutual memories at Harrenhal seemed to reverberate off the walls as they got undressed and entered the tub. 

Brienne was always amazed at how much tension a bath like this helped release. Often she did not even know she was holding much of it until she let her body sink into the warm water and it carried the strain away. 

“Still sore from your trip, I take it,” Jaime said to her, as she let out a particularly effusive sigh.

“Yes, among other things.” 

Unlike the last time they had done this, when they had remained seated across from each other at a distance, this time they sat almost next to each other, on two sides of a corner. Easier to touch and talk. 

As Brienne contemplated whether to tell Jaime before they made love, or after, it occurred to her that either way, there was a nice symmetry to this moment. The last time they did this, Jaime had confessed to her an important, life-changing secret. Now she was about to do the same. 

And it made her want to talk a bit more about that moment with him. 

“When we did this before at Harrenhal, did you intend to tell me what you told me? About the Mad King?” 

“Not exactly. I did have every intention of trying to earn your trust and perhaps your friendship. By the time we got to that wretched place, I knew I would not have the strength to make it the rest of the way home without a real ally. But I didn’t set out to tell you that story specifically. Eventually I simply realized it was the only way you would come to see me as anything other than _the Kingslayer_.” 

“In some ways, it was a very hard thing for me to hear, but I will always remain grateful you chose to tell me. Even before you came to Winterfell, I used to torture myself thinking about all that we might have missed out on if you had not decided to bare that bit of your soul to me.” 

“And what about all the things after I came to Winterfell?”

As he said this, Jaime reached over and brought their heads together. Brienne leaned into the kiss at first but pulled away just before they fully embraced. 

“Yes,” she said in an undertone, with her forehead still pressed against his, “I hate the thought of never having this.” 

She kissed him again and brought his good hand down to her breast. He massaged it and the simmering fire in her loins sprang to full life. 

Brienne then pulled away again and took hold of his hand one more time, trailing it down from her breast to her stomach where she paused it and said, in even more of a whisper “And I particularly hate the thought of never having this.” 

She looked into Jaime’s eyes and did her best to tell him without words. He looked confused for a heartbeat, and then his eyes widened, and he let out a gasp. Joy radiated from him as he asked, “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be right now. My time has come and gone two weeks ago, but I have not bled. And the morning sickness is a tell-tale sign of early pregnancy. Also...I feel it is true, in my bones I feel it.” 

Jaime kissed Brienne in a way somehow fierce and tender as she wrapped her long arms around him and slid across the small distance between them to kneel over his lap. She gave his partial erection a few strokes and soon it was standing firmly against his stomach. 

Brienne then put him inside her and held him there, kissing him softly as she savored the feeling of being with him this way. Then she started to move her hips ever so slowly. Neither were in a hurry and they craved the closeness just as much as they craved release. 

The water made their bodies feel lighter and heavier at the same time, and it put a different pace on everything. Time seemed to stretch out, letting them linger perpetually in the moment, seemingly anchored only to one another.

As Brienne continued to thrust leisurely against him, Jaime started a trail of kissed at the center of her collar bone, moving slowly up her neck, past her scars, up to her earlobe. He teased the bit of flesh there, for he knew it was one of her sweet spots and her moan reverberated deliciously off the walls. 

He soon felt her muscles begin to contract around him and he pulled back to look at her properly. She was flushed pink from the warm water, her hair curling at the tips from the humidity, her moist skin glistening in the soft light. 

She was like a fever dream come to life, and all Jaime could do was cling to her while she brought them both closer to oblivion. He found it first, and then used his hand to bring her the rest of the way there. 

Her “Jaime!” was soft against his ear, but it was magnified by the acoustics of the room. The sound of it was almost holy, and while Jaime was not a particularly faithful or pious man, at that moment he felt their love as cosmic, blessed by whatever god or gods saw fit to gift them this moment. 

They let the echoes on the walls and the ripples in the bath calm before Brienne disengaged their bodies. However, she remained on his lap embracing him as she studied his face. 

“I know this is nothing new, but...I love you.” 

Jaime’s heart ached for how calmly, how warmly, how easily she said it. He might tire of hearing it one day, but that day would likely come many years from now, if at all. 

And while he meant to say it back to her, a different variation sprang from his lips instead. 

“Marry me.” 

A flutter of confusion crossed Brienne face before it lit up with a joy he feared having the power to give anyone. 

In place of a verbal answer, Brienne grabbed Jaime’s head and kissed him like she thought she might be losing him. When she finally let go, he asked flippantly, “Is that a yes?” 

She nodded emphatically and said, “Yes, gods yes.” 

They kissed once more and then shared a quiet laugh together, their excitement too much to contain. 

“So,” Jaime continued a moment later, “what do you think – boy or girl?” 

“That honestly had not even crossed my mind. What do you think?”

Jaime paused to consider and eventually said, “Girl.”

Brienne let his answer percolate and eventually she replied, “Yes, I think so too.” 

“Any ideas for names?” 

Brienne marinated for a little bit longer before she offered, “Catelyn.” 

Jaime could not stop the smile that spread across his face upon hearing this. He knew instantly, if this child of theirs was a girl, it would, indeed, be named Catelyn.

“Of course, we should probably have a boy’s name picked out as well, just in case,” he said with mock seriousness. 

“Probably. What do you propose?” 

A few ideas visited him, but he was only really taken by one of them. 

“Arthur.” 

“Why Arthur?” 

“For Ser Arthur Dayne. He knighted me and he is still one of the only men I have ever truly admired.” 

Brienne could see the weight of Jaime’s words in his face and felt almost at once the rightness of the name. Whether it belonged to the child she now carried, or one yet to be conceived, she felt sure she would one day have a son called Arthur. 

The continued to talk of names for their children yet to come, laying claim to a future for which they had no guarantees, but a great many hopes. Then they retired to their room where they made love for the second time that night on their wolf-skin coverlet in front of the fire, letting the warmth of it dry what of the bath still clung to them. 

And as Jaime held Brienne that night, he said a silent prayer of thanks to every god, goddess, demigod and pagan forest spirt whose name he had ever heard, if only in passing. While he still did not relish the idea of fate, the cosmos had aligned to give him a gift so grand to let it go unacknowledged seemed...rude. 

Jaime could not abide the thought of being so ungrateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so long coming. Unfortunately, for the next few months, my posting schedule will probably be more delayed. This is the busiest time of my work year, plus the holidays and various family obligations will take up a lot of my free time. I still have every intention of finishing this fic. It is just going to be a little slower to come at this point in the year. 
> 
> At any rate, thank you all for your encouragement and kind words! I know I always say that, but I am genuinely grateful.


	16. A Vow or a Few

Jaime and Brienne got one full day of bliss together at Winterfell; one day to revel in their plans to marry and the knowledge that their love would bring them a child in due time. 

The morning after their perfect day, a raven came from Tyrion with news of the attack on King’s Landing. Soon after reading it, Sansa and Bran summoned Jaime to their war room, along with Brienne. 

They were informed that since Jaime had left the capitol, Cersei had put all her energy into developing weapons that would stand up to dragons, and her efforts had not been wasted. After the initial battle, only Drogon remained, injured and unable to properly fly. 

Their side had taken out much of the fleet guarding King’s Landing by sea. However, breeching the great city itself had turned out to be more of a challenge than anticipated, due to the efforts of the Golden Company. 

The two armies were at a stand-off and Cersei was holding the people of the city hostage as a bargaining chip. Cersei claimed she wanted to negotiate for her own protection and self-preservation, but she would only negotiate with Jaime. 

“How long can the people of King’s Landing survive without supplies from the outside?” Jaime asked. 

“Tyrion estimates between one and two months, but they have no way to know for sure,” Sansa replied. 

“Frankly, knowing my sister, she may have deliberately kept the city’s reserves understocked specifically to make her threat more urgent when the time came.” 

“We must remember, there is no guarantee she is being truthful about any of this,” Brienne interjected. “Let us not forget, she put a price on your head! We have every reason to believe this is a trick or a stalling tactic and nothing more.”

“Brienne is right. At this point, we should assume Cersei is lying by default,” Sansa continued.

“Odds are yes, she is lying. But that does not matter, I still have to go. Half a million innocent lives are a stake. If there is even the hint of a chance she will negotiate peaceful terms of surrender to me, I have to try.” 

Jaime could see Brienne about to protest, and stopped her by asserting, “It is the only honorable thing to do. I slit Aerys throat those twenty years ago to save the people of that city. I cannot let that act have been in vain. I cannot stand by while someone else tries to finish what he started.” 

He watched the tears fill her eyes, but they did not fall, and finally she looked away from him and spoke to the floor at a tone barely above a whisper: “You are right. You must go.” 

Jaime moved to stand in front of her and put his hand against her face. 

“I will do everything in my power to return to you unharmed. I have known true happiness with you here for the first time in my life, and I swear to you, I will do everything I can to keep it alive. I swear it.” 

They kissed, and then embraced, and Brienne finally let her tears fall. 

In his ear she whispered, “Promise me this is the last time we must say goodbye to each other like this.” 

“I promise.” 

“To that end,” Bran interjected, “there is another vow you may want to make, Ser Jaime, before you depart. Whether you return or not, you surely want your child to bare the name of your house.”

Sansa let out a gasp as Jaime replied, “Yes, of course, you are right.” 

“I will see to the arrangements at once,” Sansa offered, seeming if not giddy at the very least, quite satisfied. “We will have the ceremony at midday, and a feast this evening to celebrate.”

“Lady Sansa, you honor us with this offer but if I may, I should like no feasting or celebrating today. Not when Ser Jaime and I have so little time left with one another. Let us have only the ceremony today and leave the feasting and celebrating for a time after he returns.” 

“As you wish Ser Brienne. I will take care of everything. Is there are particular place at Winterfell you would prefer to say your wedding vows?”

“The Godswood?” Jaime asked his soon-to-be wife, and she nodded immediately in agreement.

“The Godswood.” 

“Very well. I will see to it. Ser Brienne, I understand your desire to spend this precious time with your groom, but could I impose upon you to ready yourself in my chambers perhaps an hour before the ceremony? It is still your wedding day.” 

“Of course, My Lady, I would be honored.” 

As Sansa departed in a hurry, Jaime and Brienne took their leave of Bran and made their way back to their chambers to begin their preparations. 

“I need to write a letter to my brother to let him know we received his message and that I plan to depart for King’s Landing today.” 

“I do appreciate the urgency, but could I persuade you to stay the night and ride out in the morning? I need...” 

Her voice faltered but she persisted. 

“I need one more night to hold you.” 

Jaime stopped walking and embraced her once again. 

“Of course. This will keep until the morrow.” 

Jaime made relatively quick work of his correspondence and then aided Brienne in packing his meager belongs for travel. He had not arrived at Winterfell with much, so it was not difficult to prepare to depart. 

Afterwards, they took an hour to bathe together and enjoy the touch of one another before Brienne presented herself to Lady Sansa for whatever the Mistress of Winterfell had in store for her. 

In the two hours since Brienne had seen her last, Sansa had managed to gather a small army of ladies’ maids all put to the task of beautifying her. Brienne let them do as they willed but was baffled by all the effort given she had no dress remotely appropriate for the occasion. 

Her confusion cleared up, however, when Sansa revealed a glorious gift six weeks in the making. It was a gown, made of watery blue silk and embroidered all over with the lion sigil of the Lannister house, tailored to fit her muscular and impossibly tall frame perfectly. 

By nature, Brienne was not overly taken by beautiful gowns. However, the sight of it made her forget for a moment about the terrible threat looming over the love of her life. It nearly made her forget how to breathe. 

Running her hands delicately over the fabric, Brienne struggled for a way to say a thank you big enough for such a gesture. 

“My Lady, this gown is nothing short of exquisite. How can I possibly repay such an act of kindness?”

“You rescued me from the greatest horror of my life. This gift is absurdly small compared to all you have done for me. But please let it be a token of my love for you and my hopes for your future happiness.” 

Brienne bent over to embrace Sansa, and the two women held each other tightly, saying everything they could not say with words in such a moment. 

Brienne donned the gown and then found the courage to look herself in the eye with the full mirror that stood in the corner of the room. While she was still not a beauty by the standards of most women, she cut a striking figure and the ladies’ maids did a good job of enhancing what assets she did have. 

For a wedding thrown together in a matter of hours, Brienne still managed to look like a real bride, even with Oathkeeper strapped to her side. Sansa had been skeptical, but Brienne had insisted, asking that the servant who fetched it also bring Jaime’s. She could not swear an oath of love and marriage to him without them present. She knew it would be like casting a magic spell without one of the key ingredients. 

To complete her outfit, Sansa let Brienne borrow an old but still beautiful wolf-skin cloak that once belonged to her mother. It made Brienne acutely feel Catelyn Stark’s presence, as if she presided over their union in some strange way. She had, after all, acted as the hand of fate that brought the two of them together, sent the pair of them down the path that would ultimately lead them to where they now stood – across from each other in front of the heart tree, ready to say their wedding vows. 

When Brienne and Sansa arrived, the rest of the small group of witnesses was already there – Podrick, Sam, Gilly, Little Sam, and Bran, along with the maester, the Septon and of course, Jaime. As Brienne approached, she could see the effect of her appearance on almost everyone present, but particularly Jaime. He looked genuinely stunned. 

“Gods, you look beautiful. Where on earth did you get that dress?”

“Lady Sansa made it as a gift for me.” 

“But how –”

“I started making it two days after the Battle for Winterfell. I knew it would not go to waste.” 

“My Lady, I have no proper words for such a kind and grand gift. So, I will just say thank you. From the depths of my soul, thank you.” 

Sansa smiled at him as Brienne handed Jaime his sword. She then removed hers from her scabbard and stuck it in the ground, hilt tilted towards him. She looked at him significantly, and Jaime immediately understood. He did the same, crossing their swords so the hilts lightly kissed underneath their clasped hands. 

Sansa then turned to the Septon to say, “I believe we are ready.” 

He read a few short passages from his holy book, and then took out the white ribbon in preparation for the vows. Brienne placed her right hand atop Jaime’s left, feeling light-headed as she gazed into his eyes. The moment had a hazy, surreal quality, but it was far from a dream, fantasy, or apparition. 

Here they truly stood, preparing to say the words that would bind them to one another in the eyes of gods and men alike. As the Septon began to wrap the ribbon, Jaime and Brienne gazed into the face of the other and said the words in near perfect unison:

_Father, smith, warrior, maiden, mother, crone, stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day to the end of my days._  
_Father, smith, warrior, maiden, mother, crone, stranger. I am hers and she is mine, from this day to the end of my days._

“Let it be known that Brienne of House Tarth and Jaime of House Lannister are one heart, one flesh, one soul.”

Brienne leaned down slightly to kiss her groom as the very small crowd cheered and clapped. When they broke apart, Brienne could see the pure joy in Jaime’s face, and it took her breath away. 

Which made Sansa’s aggressive hug all the more intense. 

“Congratulations Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime. This may be a first in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. I don’t believe two knights have ever wed before.” 

“Perhaps we’ll have a song written about us,” Jaime mused, in a half-joking tone

Jaime and Brienne each retrieved their respective swords from the earth and returned them to their sides as the group began to make its way back inside the castle. 

“Podrick, you have a lovely voice. Any chance you have a way with song lyrics as well?” Brienne asked. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever tried,” Podrick responded, great affection in his tone. 

“I hope by the time both of our babies are born and old enough to sing songs, we’ll be able to sing that song to them,” Gilly interjected, and Brienne almost reflexively put her hand over her stomach. 

“Me too.” 

~*~ 

Once back inside the castle, the small wedding party escorted Jaime and Brienne to their chambers and said a final round of congratulations and well-wishes before they dispersed. Only Sansa remained, to exchange a few final words of thanks. 

“My Lady, again, I cannot begin to express how grateful we are for what you have given us today,” Brienne intoned with great sincerity. 

“Please, think nothing of it. I owe my life to you both, probably more than once over. And I have witnessed some of the worst horrors wrought by purely political marriages and twisted forms of lust. I had started to believe perhaps these things were just ugly by their nature. You have once again given me faith they can be beautiful.”

Brienne could see tears forming in the younger woman’s eyes, and she leaned over to embrace her.

“Keep your faith in those things. Both can be beautiful – I swear it to you.” 

Sansa nodded, and took a step back, clearly preparing to take her leave.

“Ser Jaime, I know you ride out at first light. If I do not see you before then, I will pray to the gods you have a safe journey, and that you are able to end the stalemate without injury or great bloodshed.” 

“Thank you, My Lady. I am eternally grateful for your hospitality. I hope this journey of mine ends in a new era peace, one which will see our families become great allies and great friends. The Seven Kingdoms would no doubt be much better for it.” 

“They certainly could not be worse for it,” Sansa replied, wryly. “Do take care of yourself. Don’t let Cersei get the better of you.” 

“I will do my best, My Lady.” 

“Well, congratulations to you both again. I would normally wish you the blessings of a child, but as that is already well underway, I will instead send along to you some of our finest wine, and I will have the kitchens prepare you a special dinner for the occasion.” 

“You are too kind, my Lady,” Brienne replied. 

“Now, do get inside and make the most of the time you have left.” 

“Did my brother tell you to say that?” Jaime asked, amusement laced in his tone. 

“No, but it felt important that I honor his spirit in his unfortunate absence.” 

“You have done admirably. I will be sure to tell him.” 

“Thank you,” Sansa replied smiling. 

She then turned to leave just as Brienne and Jaime walked over their threshold and moved to close the door.


End file.
